


Can we try again?

by Veli



Category: Arrow - Fandom, olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Olicity 4.5, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7684831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veli/pseuds/Veli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity and Oliver are having a surprisingly hard time working together after everyone leaves. </p><p>They're alone, dealing with their respective guilt issues, missing their friends - and trying not to get trampled by the very big elephant in the room: the ruins of their relationship.</p><p>But after four months felicity has had enough!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Polite is overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished rewatching season 4 and simply can't wait for October to put things straight! 
> 
> So here's my take on what happens once the dust settles - at least as far as Oliver and Felicity is concerned.
> 
> Olicity 4.5 - my version.
> 
> Oh, and it was supposed to be a one-shot but it's getting way too long, so I think I'll have to split it over a few chapters...

Felicity took a shaky breath and raised her hand to knock on the door. She was acutely aware that her palms were sweaty and that her heartbeat was pounding in her ears as if she’d just run a marathon. At the last minute she faltered, her hand once more dropping to her side as she stared at the door in frustration.

‘This is stupid! She told herself. ‘Just knock and get it over with.’ 

She’d been telling herself that for the past ten minutes, while she’d been pacing deep furrows in the floorboards outside of Oliver’s apartment, trying to work up the nerve to do this. But so far this was the furthest she’d gotten. She’d been half way down to the lobby again twice, and had been back and forth between the elevator and his front door more times than she could count.

At this point she was half expecting Oliver to come out and offer her coffee while she made up her mind! 

‘Oh god no! Please don’t let him be aware that I’m here,’ she prayed as the embarrassment of that scenario washed over her.

This shouldn’t be so difficult. After all, this was Oliver!  
She knew him so well. They saw each other all the time, they worked together, they were best friends, partners… She used to live with him for God’s sake!

But that was precisely the problem. She hadn’t seen him privately - at least not outside of the Arrow cave - since the break-up. And she had never been to his new place. She’d known all along where he lived of course. She couldn’t really break the old habit of keeping track of everyone. But she’d never been here. 

And the truth was that since Dig left things had been awkward between her and Oliver - to put it mildly! Actually, things had probably been strained even before Dig left, but four months of working together, always just the two of them, alone at night, sharing this enormous responsibility, had really shown her just how weird things had become. 

Oh, they worked together just fine – always anticipating each other’s needs and supplementing each other perfectly. In a way that part of their relationship was even smoother than before, because there were no arguments, no confrontations. 

It was all just so…polite. 

Felicity groaned in frustration as she recalled the stilted conversation that had become the norm for them now. Gone was the open, easy intimacy and the playful banter they used to share. Instead they were super professional, efficient, working together like a machine. And all the while she was hurting, dying a little inside with every excruciatingly polite exchange.

But last night she’d finally had enough! 

Oliver had come back after yet another night out, bagging criminals for the police to pick up. He was bleeding from a cut to his arm. Not that bleeding was unusual for him exactly, she acknowledged, but he had gotten increasingly reckless over the past few months. A fact that she had pointed out to him while cleaning the wound for him. But instead of getting defensive or angry with her for trying to meddle as he would have done in the past, he’d simply chosen not to engage at all. He had calmly thanked her for her concern, and told her that he would take it under consideration. And the whole speech was delivered in that infuriatingly distant tone he’d taken to using with her. 

‘Take it under consideration’? Seriously?’ Felicity fumed to herself, remembering his carefully controlled expression as he’d delivered that line. 

And that’s when she’d come to a decision. She had to end this weirdness between them! she wanted her friend back, she wanted the intimacy that they used to share and the warmth that had somehow gotten lost. They may not be a couple anymore but they were still each other’s best friends and confidantes. And she was going to insist on getting back to that. 

All of which had brought her to this hallway, facing this stupid door, clasping a brown paper bag with a bottle of wine as a peace offering and - hopefully - a means to ease the conversation.

Felicity gave the door an evil look, as if the door was at fault here. Then she took a deep breath and quickly knocked before she could change her mind again.

***

It seemed to take forever. Long enough that she considered turning around and forgetting about the whole thing. 

But just as she was about to turn on her heel and head for the elevator one last time, the door flew open, and there he was. 

He looked tired she noticed with a pang of concern. And a little startled to see her. He was obviously settled in for the evening – barefoot, wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a rumpled white t-shirt. 

‘And looking indecently good in it,’ she noticed. 

“Felicity!” he exclaimed in surprise. And then a big, happy smile spread on his face. 

Her lips automatically curved into an answering smile, and she thought she actually felt a blush creeping into her cheeks. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so hard after all, she thought. 

For a moment she just stood there taking him in. Logically she knew he couldn’t have changed in the twelve hours since she’d last seen him. But somehow seeing him here – in the privacy of his home – seemed different. He seemed different. This was her Oliver. Not the Mayor, not the Arrow, not the overly cordial, closed off version of him that she’d worked with these past few moths, but her Oliver. 

But of course he wasn’t – and of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

She watched his ‘I’m-genuinely-happy-to-see-you’-smile turn tight and controlled as he got over the initial surprise of seeing her there. And she was once again reminded of the divide between them. A divide that seemed harder to breach than ever before. It seemed to be made up of more than just the four months of polite interaction and professional friendship. More than just four months of living apart. It felt like there was an actual physical wall between them, she thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach. 

“Felicity?” Oliver repeated, breaking her train of thought. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?” 

“Hmm?” she managed as she focused on his face again. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked. His ‘Worried Face’ was now firmly in place she noticed. 

“Is something wrong?” she repeated, momentarily confused. “No, no – not at all. I mean, yes! Yes, actually, something is wrong”, she frowned, recalling the reason for her being here. 

And that was of course entirely the wrong thing to say, she realized as she took in his changed expression. He might as well have had ‘Vigilante Mode Activated’ flashing in bright neon on his forehead! 

“I mean, not anything that requires bow and arrow or any of that crime fighting stuff,” she hurriedly added before he could start target-practicing on unsuspecting neighbors.

“But I really do need to talk to you about…something. Something important.” She blinked up at him a few times waiting for him to react. 

“Sooo…can I come in?” she asked softly, when he didn’t immediately respond. 

“What? Oh! Sure – of course, come on in,” he mumbled, opening the door wide and stepping aside to let her by. 

***

Felicity walked past him, into the loft that had been his home these past four months and looked around curiously. 

The apartment should have felt cramped – it was tiny compared to the loft they had shared - but it somehow seemed spacious enough. Possibly because he had gone for a severe, minimalist look, she observed. In fact, minimalistic was an understatement. The place was practically empty. 

The kitchen was a built-in industrial unit against the far left wall. A concrete and steel breakfast bar separated it from the rest of the room. A single stool was all the seating provided along the bar. 

He obviously didn’t entertain much anymore she thought absentmindedly as she perused the rest of the open space. 

The tall factory-style windows were bare and the raw brick walls were devoid of pictures or decorations of any kind. In the middle of the polished concrete floor sat a simple black futon couch – the kind that pulled out into a bed. She saw no signs of bedding, but she assumed he must have some somewhere. A single lamp sat on a stack of books on the floor next to the couch. The big wooden trunk that she long ago dubbed ‘the island trunk’ stood next to the couch, apparently doing duty as a low table and storage space in one. In the far right corner of the room a glass brick wall hid what was presumably a small bathroom. A single towel hung over the half open door that led to the small enclosure behind the glass wall. 

And that was it. Unless you counted the floor-to-ceiling pile of cardboard boxes that were stacked against the fourth wall, behind the door. It didn’t look like a home at all. His lair on the island had had a more lived-in feel than this space, she recalled with a shudder. 

Felicity slowly turned on her heel to face him. She really hoped her face wouldn’t show how disturbed she felt by the bleakness of this monk’s cell of a home. 

Oliver had closed the door and now stood, arms crossed over his chest, silently studying her, as she studied his home. 

For a second she felt self-conscious, not really sure how to begin. 

“Do…err…do you want to sit?” Oliver finally broke the silence, waving a hand in the general direction of the low couch. 

“No! I mean, no thanks,” she shook her head energetically. “Nooo, I’m far too nervous to sit,” she added, gesturing aimlessly with her empty hand. “And I think I need to pace to be able to say what I came to say,” she continued. “Besides, if I sit you’ll be towering over me and that’s just impossible.” She nodded sagely. “And that couch is so small that if you sit too I would practically be in your lap, and enjoyable as that may be, it really wouldn’t be helpful…or appropriate under the circumstances, and…” Felicity abruptly stopped talking. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath while counting to ten, willing the sudden warmth in her cheeks to go away.

“Sorry,” she finally said, squinting up at him with a small smile. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”

“I know,” he said softly, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. 

“Yeah, of course that hasn’t changed,” she mumbled as she studied the floor, trying to regroup. 

Oliver didn’t speak. He just stood there, patiently waiting for her to continue. 

“Okay,” she finally managed so say. “I came because I need to talk to you about something…something personal.” 

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for some time now, but it just didn’t feel right to say this in the Arrow-cave, or at your office…so…here I am.” She peeked up at him again, trying to take courage from the fact that he hadn’t made a move to shut her up or turn her away yet.

He just looked mildly curious, she thought. And maybe a little bit apprehensive. 

“I brought wine,” she blurted out, suddenly recalling her strategy to get him talking. She pulled the bottle out of the crumpled paper bag, and held it out to him.

“Oh! Okay,” he said sounding uncertain. 

“I’ll find us some glasses then…?” he made it sound like a question but Felicity chose to ignore it. She resolutely walked to the breakfast bar and plonked the bottle down for him to open. 

While Oliver rummaged through the cabinets for glasses and a bottle opener she climbed the single stool at the bar, and tried to get her heart rate under control.

‘There’s nothing to be nervous about,’ she reminded herself. ‘Just two friends having drinks and talking...’ 

Except, that annoying little voice in the back of her mind informed her, there was really everything to be nervous about. If this didn’t go well, how were they supposed to go back to working together? And if they didn’t even have that – what reason did she really have for sticking around? 

She pushed the unpleasant thoughts aside, and accepted the glass of wine Oliver handed her. As she took the glass from him, his fingers accidentally touched hers and she almost dropped it. 

‘Oh, get a grip Smoak!’ she silently admonished herself. ‘He’s touched way more interesting parts of you in the past – that was hardly grounds for a meltdown.’ 

But she couldn’t quite ignore the jolt of electricity the brief contact had caused and she wondered fleetingly if coming here might have been a mistake. It seemed she was somehow more susceptible to him here than in the Arrow cave, and she really needed to keep her wits about her now.

But Oliver seemed nervous too she realized. 

He was fidgeting with his glass, lifting it to his mouth but not drinking, setting it back down on the counter top only to lift it again. He shifted on his feet and moved his glass from the counter behind him to the breakfast bar where she was sitting. All the while studiously avoiding her gaze. 

Felicity sipped her wine and tried to enjoy the rich tannins rolling over her tongue. The wine was dry, yet smooth and full-bodied. Just the way she liked it. But she was too tense to appreciate it tonight. 

‘Okay, enough with the stalling,’ she decided. Time to rip off this band-aid.

“Oliver, I can’t do this anymore,” she abruptly blurted out. 

His eyes snapped up and met hers, and she was momentarily stunned by the sharp pain and loss she saw there. 

“It’s driving me crazy and it…well, it hurts Oliver,” she continued. “And don’t tell me you don’t feel it too. This has to stop – before one of us dies from politeness-overload!” she added sarcastically. “I mean, how are we ever going to explain that to the police…” she mumbled in an aside. 

“Oh!” he said, a look of surprise…and of something else… on his face. 

“’Oh’? Is that all you have to say? Oliver, come on!” she said in exasperation. “You know what I’m talking about. You and me. The way things have been with us since Dig left. I just can’t take it anymore. I need my friend back.”

There was that look again. Was it disappointment she saw? She wondered briefly. 

“I need us to be us again,” she soldiered on. “Not just colleagues or whatever it is we’ve become. I mean, seriously, Oliver, when was the last time you and I talked – and I don’t mean exchanging polite chit-chat about the weather or the best way to take down criminals, or even barking orders at each other during business hours!”

Annoyed to feel angry tears threatening, Felicity took a big gulp of wine before setting the glass firmly back on the concrete table-top. 

“You’re right,” he said softly. He sounded tired. Tired and sad, she thought. 

“You’re absolutely right. It’s been killing me too,” he continued. “But that’s what you wanted, and after a while I just didn’t know how to stop,” he added with a shrug. 

“I know,” she said, glad that he’d finally decided to join the conversation. 

“It was like it took on a life of its own, and…wait...what do you mean it was what I wanted?” she glared at him angrily. 

And that was all it took to ignite the virtual powder keg of frustrations and pent up emotions they’d both been carrying around. 

It exploded in a shouting match that had very little to do with what was actually bothering them, but which did a whole lot to clear the air. 

It was loud and fast and oddly satisfying and it left them both panting for air, glaring at each other from across the breakfast bar.

“Wow!” Felicity mumbled, catching her breath. “I did not see that coming. That was not how I intended this to go.”

She blinked at him at couple of times, trying to get back on track. 

“But I guess it’s safe to say we’ve effectively left ‘polite’ behind!” She gave him an uncertain smile. 

Oliver let out a loud huff of air and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Actually I think we buried it,” he chuckled, flashing her the first real smile she’d seen in weeks. 

“How about we try this again,” he added. He grabbed the wine bottle and walked around the counter, holding out his hand to help her off the stool. 

She let him steer her towards the couch, pleased that his hand on her elbow felt natural once again and not like a forced act of chivalry. 

Felicity plopped onto the couch, gratefully nudging off her heels and curling her legs up under her.

Oliver seemed to relax too, she noticed. With that innate grace that always took her by surprise, he folded his big body into a comfortable position beside her, sipping his wine as they both settled in to talk. 

***

In the hours that followed Felicity had very little sense of time or place. They were finally connecting again, talking, sharing, un-loading months of repressed hurt, guilt and anger. 

Her guilt over the bomb that she couldn’t stop form detonating, his struggles with juggling his new job and singlehandedly saving his city, their friends’ leaving - all the things they hadn’t talked about - with one noticeable exception, of course, she thought with a pang of regret. But she wasn’t ready to bring that up just yet…

It had gotten dark while they talked, and at some point Oliver had turned on the single lamp next to the couch. The warm light from the lamp spilled over the couch, and seemed to envelop them in their own little safe cocoon, casting the loft into dark shadows around them. 

Felicity wasn’t entirely sure when or how it happened, but as the wine went down and burdens were lifted, old habits started to re-assert themselves. Like their old habit of casually touching while talking. It had always been their thing – an unconscious way of forging a bond, a deeper intimacy, and now, without noticing, they’d reverted to their old ways. 

Oliver played with her fingers. She rubbed his arm. He touched her shoulder. She squeezed his hand. It was all done naturally and without thought. It was comfortable and familiar. 

The bottle was almost empty and they’d long since strayed from the serious topics to more light-hearted banter, when Felicity laughed at something he said, and playfully slapped his hand.

And that’s when it happened. 

She noticed his eyes lingering on her lips for just a little too long and her breath caught. She involuntarily licked her bottom lip, and felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach as she watched his eyes growing perceptibly darker. Her mouth went dry and she felt a quick rush of heat up her neck. His touch changed subtly. He was not so much playing with her fingers now, as he was sensually stroking, caressing. She felt like she couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs and without thinking she leaned towards him.

But the small movement seemed to snap Oliver out of the moment. 

With a flustered apology, he straightened, and dropped her hand. He got up, nervously running his hands down the side of his jeans as if brushing out wrinkles. 

“We’re out of wine,” he mumbled without looking at her. “We need more wine. I think I have another bottle here somewhere,” he added and rushed off to the kitchen.

With a pang of disappointment Felicity let out the breath of air she’d been holding, slumping back against the couch. 

‘Holy cow! How did that happen? She thought, frantically trying to get back to the calm and friendly zone they’d been in a minute ago. 

But it evaded her as thoughts of Oliver filled her head. Memories of how things had been, of his touch, being with him… Clearly the tight control she’s been keeping on her physical attraction to him had slipped now that her emotional barriers were down. But that could be fixed…

‘If that’s what you want,’ the little voice in the back of her mind said suggestively.

“Okay, that’s it Smoak,” she mumbled to herself. “It’s just the wine talking. And maybe hormones…it’s natural, don’t read too much into it.”

‘It’s too bad though…’ she thought dreamily, briefly allowing herself to speculate. 

“But judging by his reaction I guess seduction is out of the question,” she mumbled dejectedly, staring blindly towards the dark windows.

“What was that?” Oliver’s warm voice came from directly behind her, making her jump guiltily. She had forgotten how silently he moved. 

‘Oh Frack! Did he hear that?’ she wondered frantically.

“What? Nothing…just…you know me…always talking to myself,” she babbled, as he walked around the couch to face her. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? 

Oliver looked at her questioningly as he placed the fresh bottle on the low table. 

Oh god, was that laughter she saw in his eyes? She searched his face, but he was busy pouring wine and settling back on the couch, not looking directly at her. 

“Now, where were we…” he mumbled, an odd tone to his voice, as he handed her the refilled glass with a warm smile. 

This time she was sure she saw a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

Was she imagining things or did he suddenly seem oddly pleased about something? 

Felicity realized that her grip on the situation was slowly slipping, revealing a major flaw in her carefully planned strategy. All she had set out to do was get him to open up and talk. She hadn’t considered how letting go of her own control would open her up to longings and feelings she’d been keeping a tight lid on for months now. 

And now it was all pouring out in a big quivering mess of wanting and needing and…she looked up and met his warm gaze. And just like that millions of butterflies started doing the mambo in her stomach.


	2. Finding a New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having agreed to put the awkward post-break-up phase behind them and start fresh, Oliver and Felicity are trying to find a new normal.
> 
> But Felicity is slightly unnerved by the changes in Oliver...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - next installment. 
> 
> This is getting a little longer than I had anticipated - a few more chapters to go I think for what I have in mind :-)
> 
> Oh, and can I just say, thanks for the comments...I guess writing a fic on the topic of Olicity's break-up and reconciliation is more controversial than I had anticipated ;-) But I enjoy the comments and different points of view supplies don't hesitate to respond.

Felicity took a gulp of wine, and tried to relax. Oliver seemed completely at ease again she noticed a little grumpily. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by that …moment, they just had. 

‘And there was a moment,’ she thought. ‘I didn’t imagine that. There definitely was a moment.’

But either Oliver simply didn’t care or he was a lot better at ignoring it than she was, she decided, eyeing him speculatively. 

Either way he was easily picking up conversation where they’d left off before ‘the Moment’, seemingly relaxed and content. In fact, he seemed to have found a new confidence…or something. 

Felicity frowned and bit her lip. 

But this evening had been all her idea and it so far it had been a success, hadn’t it? So really there was no need for her to feel so jittery all of a sudden, was there? 

She just couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the tables had suddenly turned on her…

“You’ve gone quiet all of a sudden,” Oliver quietly broke through her thoughts. “Tired? Do you want me to call you a cab?” 

“Yeah,” she said and suppressed a yawn. “I am a little tired…and I probably shouldn’t have had that third glass of wine. I should get going,” she mumbled, feeling oddly reluctant to leave.

“Too bad,” he mumbled suggestively and suddenly flashed her a mischievous grin. “I was kind of looking forward to seeing those seduction techniques of yours in action.” 

“You heard that?” she gasped, instantly feeling wide awake – and completely mortified. 

“Oh my god! You did hear that … and you just left me hanging,” she complained as she realized he’d been sitting on that little nugget for the past half hour. She suddenly felt completely sober again. 

“Oh come on, Felicity,” he laughed disarmingly. “It’ was cute - nothing to be that embarrassed about.”

He mumbled something in an aside. She couldn’t be sure but it sounded a lot like “Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind more than once…” 

“But… for now,” he said out loud. “We should probably stick to platonic.” he added with a wink. “Don’t you agree?”

Did she detect a hint of regret in his voice? Felicity moaned in dismay and covered her face with her hands, too self-conscious to look at him.

“Mmmm…sure, absolutely” she mumbled from behind her hands. 

When she finally let them drop, she gave him a owlish look that quickly turned petulant as he chuckled at her obvious discomfort. 

“On second thought, hold off on that cab and pass me the wine Mister,” she said defiantly. “I think I need an extra glass... to get over this!”

***

Afterwards she couldn’t quite recall who suggested watching a movie, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Something to take their minds off serious matters – and awkward moments. 

Friends did that, she’d told herself, when tiny flickers of doubt tickled her wine-befuddled brain. And now that they’d cleared the air, she and Oliver were definitely friends again, she’d reassured herself.

Of course Oliver didn’t have a TV in this barren wasteland of an apartment, but she’d suggested they use his laptop, which she’d spotted on the kitchen counter earlier. 

He must have been feeling the effects of the wine too, she later decided. At least he hadn’t protested when she solved the problem of both of them watching the tiny screen by propping herself up against his chest, balancing the laptop on a pillow on her stomach, so that he could watch over her shoulder. 

Which was also why two hours later, she woke up in his arms just as the final credits were rolling over the screen. 

For a long moment Felicity felt disoriented as she slowly broke through the fog of sleep. The familiarity of the situation felt very much at odds with her surroundings. 

Slowly her muddled brain started replaying the events of the evening, recalling how he had obediently re-filled her glass as per her order, then proceeded to make her laugh, until she forgot to be embarrassed. They had playfully argued over which movie to watch, and then giggled their way through the beginning of a very bad comedy. 

She must have dosed off about half way through, she figured. 

“Felicity? Are you awake?” Oliver mumbled behind her. His voice sounded warm and lazy as if he too had drifted off for a bit. She could feel it vibrating through his chest where it was pressed against her back, making her very aware how intimate their position was.

She shifted skittishly, careful not to dislodge the laptop. 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “I guess I must have been more tired than I thought.”

She felt him chuckle behind her. 

“That…and you never were much of a drinker,” he mumbled.

She sat up, carefully placing the laptop on the low table, and pretended to stretch out a few kinks in her neck to buy herself a little time. 

Physically she felt fine. Still a little woozy perhaps, she allowed, but she felt pretty confident that she could walk out of there without making a spectacle of herself.

Mentally, however, was an entirely different matter. She felt…awkward. As if she’d done something she shouldn’t have. But she wasn’t entirely sure if she had... 

‘Time for a tactical retreat Smoak,’ she thought to herself. 

“I should get going,” she said out loud, flashing him an apologetic smile. “It’s really late and …I should get going.”

He didn’t try to stop her. 

He simply called her a cab and walked her to the elevator. Which was as it should be – it was what she wanted, she told herself. But she couldn’t quite shake the slightly anti-climactic feeling it gave her.

“So,” he said as she stepped into the waiting elevator. “See you tomorrow then…friend.” He gave her a crooked smile and raised a hand in a small wave good-bye just as the elevator doors were closing. 

Felicity stared blindly at the numbers counting down the elevator’s descent. She was exhausted but also more hopeful than she had been in a long time. It had been the right decision to come here she congratulated herself. 

But even though she felt pleased to have gotten their friendship back on track, something was niggling at her mind. She had a feeling she was missing something…something important, but her tired brain was just not computing. 

‘But… for now, we should probably stick to platonic,’ Oliver’s playful words from earlier suddenly bubbled up through her fatigue. It had seemed an innocent remark at the time but now – the memory of his warm body pressed against hers still fresh in her mind - it took on new meaning to her. 

For all intents and purposes Oliver had agreed to revive their friendship. But had he also just announced his intentions? Had he just told her that he was content to be the perfect friend and partner - for now - but that he still wanted more? 

And if he was indeed intent on winning her back…what was she going to do about that? 

The thing that broke them up was still there. That hadn’t changed. So why was she suddenly so…conflicted? 

With a slightly panicky feeling Felicity realized that she had absolutely no idea how to respond to that.  
***

Over the next few weeks Felicity deliberately avoided thoughts of ‘more’. She congratulated herself on having solved the problems between them, and enjoyed the lighter mood, the ease and familiarity. 

They seemed to slip effortlessly into a friendship that was both new and familiar. It was a friendship and partnership like they used to have, but it was somehow also more than the partnership they’d had before they were a couple. 

But that was only natural, she told herself. After all, you didn’t just forget the intimacies of a relationship. And really, it was a good thing, she decided. It meant that they were easily in sync. 

As for her suspicion that Oliver possibly hadn’t admitted defeat by conceding to friendship, she chose simply to ignore it for now. She wasn’t at all sure how she felt about that… 

For the moment she was just happy to realize that she was once again looking forward to her evenings with Oliver – even though the business part could be pretty gritty and grueling, the work was good, and the camaraderie was almost a bigger reward than the feeling of doing good. 

But there were other changes in their relationship, she discovered. 

Since the night at Oliver’s place, he seemed to have changed subtly. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it – it was just something in the way he looked at her. Like she’d given him hope or something. On the surface he was being the perfect friend, never crossing that line, but she was sure she sometimes saw a knowing look in his eye, or detected a slightly flirty tone, or a very masculine look whenever she catched him watching her. 

It was unnerving but also – she hated to admit it – slightly exhilarating.

Another thing that had changed was movie night. They had both realized how much they had needed someone to hang out with and talk to – someone who knew what they did at night, knew about the baggage they both carried, someone they could be themselves with. And since Dig had left and Thea had opted out of all things vigilante, they really only had each other. 

So by tacit agreement they’d slowly established movie night as a sort of crime-fighting time-out. Once or twice a week they would meet at her place – after all she had actual furniture and a TV! – watch a movie, eat take-out and just be… 

It was all perfectly natural and platonic, she reassured herself, when she sometimes caught herself wondering about their increasing intimacy.

But of course it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were…hiccups…once in a while. But what friendship didn’t have those, right? 

Like the clash they had one night when Oliver caught her exiting the Martial Arts Center where she’d been taking lessons since Dig left… 

***

With screeching tires Oliver’s car pulled up along the curb next to her.

“Get in!” he barked in almost full Arrow-voice, popping open the passenger side door.

Felicity immediately assumed they had an emergency, and didn’t argue but just slipped in and buckled up as he sped of.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He yelled as soon as they were out in traffic. 

“What?” she said, completely taken aback. Apparently his stormy mood was about her, she realized, but she had no clue why. 

“Felicity, What were you doing in that club?” he asked, his voice taking on that deadly quiet tone he used whenever he was fighting to get his temper under control. 

“Training – obviously!” she replied somewhat miffed at being yelled at for no apparent reason. 

Oliver grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and stared straight ahead as he drove.

“Oliver what did you think I was doing in there?” she asked really puzzled now.

The car screeched around the corner and he parked abruptly in the alleyway behind the building that housed their secret lair. 

“Out!” he snapped and launched himself out of the car.

Fuming with her own righteous rage now, Felicity slammed the car door a little harder than absolutely necessary as she stalked ahead of him into their ‘office’.

As soon as the door slammed behind him she whirled around to face him.

“What is your problem Oliver,” she yelled.

“Felicity…” he started, clearly so mad he could hardly speak.  
“I will NOT have you taking up weapons and following me around out there at night, do you understand me?” he roared. 

‘What?’ she thought momentarily stunned by the unexpected direction of his anger. 

“Oliver, you’re not making any sense!” she snapped. “What are you talking about? I’m taking self-defense classes – why is that a problem?”

And then it dawned on her…

“Oh!” she said. “Oh no! No, Oliver,” she almost felt like laughing hysterically. 

“You think I’m planning on following in Laurel’s footsteps don’t you?” she asked incredulously. 

He just glared at her for a moment, as if daring her to deny it.

“Oh my God, Oliver!” she yelled in exasperation. “You think I’m trying to be the next Canary, don’t you? As if two weren’t enough!” she grumbled in an aside. “Oliver, seriously, why on earth would you think that?” 

“Felicity…” he began, but she cut him off. 

“I like computers!” she said tersely. “And I have absolutely no desire to be your next night-time groupie in a mask and a vampy leather out-fit!” she snapped.

“Not that I couldn’t pull off the out-fit, I mean – I totally could – but that’s beside the point!”

She thought she saw a glimmer of humor in his eyes, but she quickly carried on, not willing to let her anger be derailed just yet.

“I’m taking self-defense classes so that I’ll be able to take care of myself Oliver. No so that I can go out an pound on criminals, but so that I can protect myself if they should try to pound on me again!” 

“I’ll protect you!” he grumbled, quietly. 

“Oliver, you’re out there alone now,” she said. “You have no back-up except for me, and I can’t help you with the actual confrontations. But what I can do is make sure you don’t have to worry about me too while you’re out saving the world.”

Oliver looked at her in surprise. 

“Huh,” he said speculatively. “I guess when you put it like that...” 

“Of course I’ll always worry about you,” he continued matter-of-factly, thinking out loud. “But it probably would help a bit knowing that you can take care of yourself should it come to that,” he trailed off. 

Felicity kept quiet, waiting for him to work it out on his own. 

“But why do you go to that center?” he suddenly asked, turning his full attention back to her. 

“What?” she said, startled at the abrupt change of direction. “Well, I…I only just started going there. When Dig left,” she explained. “He used to work with me here. But since he’s gone I thought I’d take classes instead,” she shrugged. 

He gave her a speculative look.

“Those self-defense classes are no good,” he finally said. “They teach you certain moves and responses to planned attacks, but real life isn’t like that. I can teach you better,” he concluded in a satisfied tone. 

“Wha…at?” she stuttered.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he said, as if it had already been decided. “Come down here an hour early and we’ll do some sparring,” he said, seeming pleased with that idea.

Felicity glared at him in silence. She could think of a thousand reasons why that was a horrible idea, but at the same time, she had to admit that he had a point. He did have pretty extraordinary skills in that department…

And she could handle a little friendly contact sport with Oliver. Of course she could…


	3. Team Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver starts training Felicity in self-defense. 
> 
> Felicity is surprised to discover that she likes working with him like this - but also discovers that some things never change. 
> 
> Certain feelings and longings are far from dead and gone...and some are just really confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little self-indulgent ...had to let this play out a little...but I promise things are coming to a head soon.
> 
> Just two more chapters to go (I think).

Thump!  
Felicity hit the mat, face first...again. For a split second she contemplated just staying down. It was hardly worth the trouble getting up – she was just going to wind up down here again in a second she figured.

Then Oliver’s hand drifted in to her line of sight, as he offered to help her up. 

With a sigh she grabbed his hand and let him pull her to her feet. 

“That was much better,” he said approvingly. “You almost had me there.”

“Sure…” Felicity snorted. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “You have some pretty good moves already. I see you’ve learned some of Dig’s techniques and they’re working really well for you,” he nodded. 

“Not well enough apparently,” she said, not completely able to hide her disappointment. 

“On anyone but me they probably would have,” he replied as his lifted the water bottle to his lips.

“Wow! Cocky much?” she said acidly, arching her brows at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he chuckled. “It’s just that Dig and I have been sparring for so long now that I know his moves too well.”

“Well, then how come you don’t win every time you two practice?” she challenged him jokingly.

“Because he knows mine too,” he replied a little wistfully “Besides,” he added with a grin, “I win most of the time.”

Felicity chose not to comment on that, but picked up her own water bottle instead.

“Anyway, I think that’s enough for today,” he continued. “And you should probably hit the shower.” He eyed her speculatively. “Your muscles are bound to get sore later, but the hot water should help some.” He picked up his towel and wiped off his face.

“I’d offer to give you a massage,” he said, flashing her an impish smile. “But it’s about time for me to suit up, so the shower will have to do.”

“Uh-huh…” Felicity gulped, not trusting herself to speak as images of Oliver’s hands running over her naked body intruded on her. 

Did he do that on purpose? she wondered. Drop these little cute comments and flirtatious hints? Or was she reading too much into everything? Maybe it had been a completely innocent remark?

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she gathered up her towel and gym bag. 

He was already busy getting out his gear for the evening, apparently oblivious to any real or imagined innuendos. 

She huffed in annoyance, and headed towards the bathroom, not entirely sure if she was more annoyed with him or with herself. 

***

The hot water cascaded over Felicity’s head, kneading her abused body in the most amazing way, and she practically purred in pure bliss. 

Oliver had been right about one thing, she conceded. She was definitely going to feel this in the morning. But right now the shower felt fantastic, and a few sore muscles was totally going to be worth it! 

She’d discovered that Oliver was a really good coach, and she had a feeling he was going to make sure she would be able to take care of herself. So what if that meant sending her to the mat repeatedly? That was how you learned wasn’t it? 

She started lathering up her hair, as she mentally evaluated their work-out. 

She was actually kind of relieved to discover that he hadn’t treated her with kid gloves. He’d not gone easy on her – at least she didn’t think so. 

Even so, she still had some issues with letting Oliver train her she had to admit. 

For one, she was inexplicably self-conscious around him these days. And while she could handle it when she was busy doing her own thing – the thing she was good at – it was an entirely different matter when she was supposed to perform on HIS territory.

And Felicity had no illusions about her own abilities in the fighting department. She was not a fighter. She had never even really been the athletic type, so when she started taking self-defense lessons with Dig, she had already been well out of her comfort zone. 

But with Dig she’d felt no need to impress. He was like a big brother to her, so she had been able to focus on just learning. Same thing when she started taking lessons at the Martial Arts Center. She wasn’t there for anyone’s approval – just to learn a skill set for herself.

But the minute she got on that mat with Oliver she’d realized that she desperately wanted him to be pleased with her performance. She told herself it was stupid. He knew her. He knew this wasn’t her thing and that she only needed to learn the basics for self-protection. But she’d watched him train with other women – women who could fight – and she keenly felt her own shortcomings. 

And as if a budding inferiority complex wasn’t enough, there was of course the whole body-thing.

Felicity let out a low groan and let the water wash over her head.

She’d watched him train for years now – always admiring his strength, his control…and his absolutely amazing physique. There was no denying that his body was spectacular, and even though she liked to think she was above those primal instincts, she admitted – at least to herself – that he did affect her. A lot!

And while that had been fine when they were together, it was not that simple anymore.

But for this to work she had to get all close-up and physical with him. She sighed audibly and reached for the conditioner. 

It wasn’t that she was adverse to a little rough-and-tumble with the man, she decided. They may not be together but it didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate…things.  
But the two of them getting all sweaty and panting and grabbing and…. 

‘Stop!’ she told herself. ‘This is purely practical and very, very platonic. Just work…’

She’d told herself that repeatedly, but the problem was she was doing a lousy job at convincing herself. 

At least he’d worn a t-shirt today… 

She’d been half dreading, half hoping he’d show up in his usual training attire, which was basically just sweatpants. But much to her relief – which felt surprisingly similar to disappointment – he’d worn a t-shirt.

It didn’t change the fact that she’d gotten to feel a good deal of him today, and clothes or no clothes, she silently accepted that time apart had by no means made her immune to him. 

Felicity was just rinsing out her hair when there was quick knock on the door, and Oliver walked in without waiting for a reply. 

“Oliver!” she gasped, gripping the shower curtain to make sure she was covered. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice sounding slightly breathless.

“I just wanted to give you this before I head out,” he said producing a small bottle. 

Felicity glared at him, but he seemed completely unaffected. As if walking in on her in the shower was a normal everyday thing for him. 

‘Well, maybe it is,’ that little voice in the back of her head commented. ‘After all, you used to share a shower all the time… before.’ But that had been totally different. And he had definitely been affected back then. Wasn’t it just a little bit insulting that he seemed so indifferent now? she wondered.

“Like I said,” he interrupted her rambling mind. “You’re probably going to get a little sore after today, but if you rub this ointment in before you go to bed tonight it should take care of the worst of it.”

He placed the small bottle on the edge of the sink, and turned to leave. But then he hesitated and turned back around to take a closer look at her now flaming face.

“You look a little hot,” he said with a strange edge to his voice. He lingered for a second as if debating something with himself. Then he cleared his throat and winked at her. “Remember to hydrate,” he said as he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him. 

 

***

 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Felicity felt her whole body slump as tension let go. Why on earth was she suddenly such a quivering mass of nerves, just because Oliver made an unexpected appearance? And had she actually heard him humming when he left? 

‘Get yourself together Smoak,’ she scolded herself. ‘You’re acting like a love sick teenager! We’re friends – he was just being thoughtful.’

Resolutely she turned off the water and toweled off, wincing at the sore spots that were already noticeable. 

‘Guess he weren’t joking about needing that ointment then,’ she mumbled to herself as she got dressed and towel-dried her hair. No hair dryer in Oliver’s super utilitarian bathroom. She’d have to bring one if she was going to shower here on a regular basis, she decided. Along with a padlock for the door, he inner voice commented sarcastically. 

She tied her still damp hair back in a ponytail, and slipped into her heels.

Moments later she was in position in front of her domain – the wall of computer screens from where she ruled the world…or at least manipulated it and extracted whatever information Oliver needed. Sitting in her own chair with the world just a click and a tap away, she felt much more in control. 

She was just locating his tracking device on a map of the city when Oliver’s voice sounded over the coms. 

“Felicity!” He had to yell for her to hear him over the angry noises from the bike and the sounds of wind rushing by.

“Standing by,” she replied, tapping into the city’s security camera feed.

“I’ve been thinking,” he yelled.

“About the bad guys you’re about to take on, I hope,” she said sternly. Switching to police scanner. 

“I think we need to focus your training a bit more on building stamina,” he shouted conversationally. 

“What?” she said. “Oliver, do you seriously want to have this conversation right now? And…what do you mean ‘building stamina’?” she frowned at the screen as if he could see her. “I have plenty of stamina, I’ll let you know,” she huffed. “There’s nothing wrong with my body!”

“Oh, I love your body, Felicity,” he deadpanned. “But I’m talking about endurance in a fight.”

“Mmmm….” She said noncommittally, grateful that the coms were audio only. 

“Fighting is brutal and ugly, but most of that can be countered with the right techniques,” he went on. “But what most people fail to realize is that fighting is also incredibly demanding, and you’re never going to win if you can’t go the distance,” he shouted. 

“So I think we should make sure we work on that part of your training too,” he added. 

“Right… I guess that makes sense,” she said a bit weakly, leaning back in her swivel chair. 

“But don’t even think about putting me on that salmon ladder!” she added as an afterthought.

“Really?” his reply came back. “But you’ve always seemed so fascinated by that,” he said.

“Trust me, it’s not the ladder I find fascinating,” she mumbled drily.

“What was that?” he yelled over the sound of sirens in the background. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Oliver, would you please just concentrate on what’s going on out there?” she added. “We can continue this discussion later,” she added. 

“Roger that,” he signed off cheerfully. 

He seemed entirely too pleased with this whole training scenario, she thought grumpily. And she had a sneaking suspicion that the joke was on her…except she wasn’t even sure what the joke was.

With a quick shake of her head Felicity put the lid firmly on that whole line of thinking and concentrated on getting Oliver back home safely instead. 

***

One week into her new training schedule with Oliver, Felicity was in pain. Severe, debilitating pain. Everything hurt – she hurt in places she didn’t even know could hurt! At this point she was fairly sure even her hair was sore when she brushed it.

She hobbled around like she needed training wheels for her heels, and almost groaned out loud whenever she had to sit down. 

Also, her workouts with Oliver had her hormones in such a state of high alert even a teenage boy would have been impressed!

And that was largely his fault, she felt. He had soon discarded his t-shirts once they started endurance training and now she got to ogle his glorious body up close during their workouts, which seemed to only spur her on during the following fighting-practice sessions. 

She’d even managed to take him down a couple of times. At least she was almost sure he hadn’t let her. Unfortunately she’d been so off balance that she’d plopped down on top of him both times but he hadn’t seemed to mind.

On the up-side, the hormonal rush seemed to drive away the pain every time she put on her work out clothes to go another round with him, so she made it through their training sessions. 

But afterwards she invariably felt worse. 

On the 7th day of training Felicity wobbled into the lair one painful step at a time, thinking she could just get a bit of screen time in before Oliver showed up. 

“Felicity!” Oliver’s worried voice greeted her. 

“What happened? Are you all right?” he was already rushing to her side to help her sit, looking her over as if trying to determine if she was going to live. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine Oliver,” she hurriedly reassured him as she settled gingerly in her chair. 

“I’m just at little sore that’s all. Not hurt. You don’t need to beat up anybody,” she smiled and winked at him in an attempt to distract him. 

“Felicity, you can hardly walk!” he said sounding up-set. “Is this because of our training? Did I do this to you? Why didn’t say something? We don’t have to push so hard.” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly feeling ridiculously guilty for her sore muscles.

“Oliver, I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes and giggled. “Really. You’re being silly. I mean, yes I’m sore from our work-outs – but come on, Oliver, it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve had sore muscles because of you,” she winked at him, hoping to lighten the mood. 

He just looked even more tormented. 

“It’ll pass,” she added in a more sober tone. “I just shouldn’t have worn high heels today – my own fault.” 

She cursed herself inwardly for not being more careful around him. Of course he was going to turn it into a bigger thing than it was. She could practically read his mind and she had no doubt he was already playing the ‘kill-me-I-broke-my-girl-friend’-game. 

‘Friend - NOT girl-friend!’ she quickly corrected herself. But it hardly mattered, she realized. Oliver blaming himself seemed to apply to both. 

“Okay,” he finally said, leaning back against her work table. He studied her face for a bit longer. Then he nodded.

“You should go home, Felicity,” he said. “Take the night off. Take a bath, drink a glass of wine, relax, and let your body recover. It’s a slow night here, no reports to act on yet, and we’re NOT doing another training session until you’re recovered a bit.” He looked at her pointedly.

She considered it for a moment. The idea of an early night, curling up on the couch in her pajamas, suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than adding new bruises and sore spots to her ever-growing collection. 

“You sure?” she asked. 

“Absolutely,” he said, with a warm smile. “Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And for once she didn’t even ask him to promise not go out alone. She really was exhausted, she realized as she made her way back to her car and headed home. 

 

***

Felicity was curled up on the couch, in her favorite pair of pajamas and with a tub of ice cream within easy reach. She’d taken Oliver’s advice and gone for a long soothing bath, a glass of wine, and now… feel-good TV-shows till she fell asleep. She felt more relaxed than she had in months. Even her mind was being blissfully quiet.

She had just dug out a spoonful of ice cream when there was a knock on the door.

With a low moan of protest, she briefly considered not answering. Maybe they didn’t know she was home? Maybe they’d go away if she just staid really quiet?

But whoever it was didn’t just go away. The knocking continued. Felicity groaned and slowly got to her feet, intend on sending whoever it was off as quickly as possible so she could get back to her quality down-time.

She flung open the door, and felt her grumpy-face turn to surprise.

“Oliver!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

Then it dawned on her. Something must have happened. The Arrow needed her.

“Come on in,” she said. “Just give me a second to get dressed and I’ll be right there.”

She turned on her heel and was about to head for the stairs, when his hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said with a smile. “I’m not here about an emergency – I’m here to feed you!” He looked very pleased with himself, she noticed.

And then she noticed something else. He was carrying bags. Grocery bags. 

“That doesn’t look like take-out,” she said slowly, eyeing the bags in his arms suspiciously. 

“Nope!” he said happily. “I’m going to cook.” He moved past her and headed straight for the kitchen. 

“Your body needs to recover Felicity,” he said as he started emptying bags onto the counter. “And it needs more than pizza and dim sum to do that. So I’m going to feed you,” he said, looking just a little smug she thought. 

Bemused she watched as he got settled in the kitchen that used to be his domain, but which now served mainly as a place to brew coffee and store leftover take out food. 

Slowly she retrieved the abandoned tub of ice cream and returned it to the freezer. Then she climbed gingerly on to one of the stools at the breakfast bar to watch while he cooked. 

It was an achingly familiar scenario. One that they’d played out countless times while they were together.  
Him, cutting, slicing and sautéing.  
Her, watching and sipping wine. 

The only difference was that normally she’d be making a running commentary while he worked and they’d be laughing and talking about their day.  
Tonight they were mostly quiet. The silence was only broken by the noise from the TV in the background and Oliver softly humming to himself. 

Felicity was quietly freaking out. 

Having him in the kitchen, watching him in his element - it was just a little too close to their old domestic bliss.

And she didn’t know how to feel about that.


	4. Cards On the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's behavior has Felicity on edge, and things get even stranger when he suddenly decides to put the cards on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay on this update - sorry. Struggled a bit to make it readable. 
> 
> Hope it works...:-)

Felicity swirled the wine in her glass and studied the rich color with a frown. 

Half an hour into Oliver’s surprise cooking-attack she was a little baffled to find herself humming along to a song he’d found on the radio, sipping wine and feeling…relaxed.

She had to admit that Oliver cooking dinner was turning out to be surprisingly enjoyable. And it was largely Oliver’s doing, she thought as she toyed with the stem of her wine glass, eyeing him speculatively. 

He seemed determined to keep the mood playful and fun. 

He had taken over in the kitchen like he had never left at all. At first it had made her uncomfortable and on edge, bringing back all kinds of memories and emotions she weren’t at all prepared to deal with. 

But as if he could read her mind, he had immediately set about lightening the mood. Putting on music and singing along while he chopped. Telling incredibly bad jokes and deliberately putting on a bit of a show, laughing happily when she rolled her eyes at his flamboyant flipping of vegetables and chef-style chopping techniques. 

‘Chef-style’…Felicity scoffed silently. She had always been of the opinion that his skill with knives was a result of his vigilante-training – not cooking classes. 

Either way, his distraction strategy was working. She’d completely forgotten to feel awkward and had just settled in to watch.

Of course it probably helped that she was suddenly famished! Delicious cooking smells started to drift through the room, making her stomach growl loudly – loud enough that Oliver turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in an I-told-you-so gesture.

Felicity stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned. 

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting just how hungry she was, she decided with a defiant lift of her chin. 

But her stomach was telling her in no uncertain terms that half a glass of wine and two spoon-fulls of ice cream was definitely NOT dinner! And now it was voicing its appreciation of the delights to come in very hard-to-ignore growls.

When Oliver finally placed a heaping plate in front of her, she was only a little embarrassed to dive in with a gusto that made speaking impossible for the next ten minutes. She practically inhaled half of the food on her plate before coming up for air. 

And when she did eventually pause to take another sip of wine she found Oliver watching her with an amused smile. 

“When was the last time you had a home cooked meal?” he asked jokingly. “In fact, scratch that – when was the last time you had a real meal, home cooked or otherwise? he said with mock disapproval. “You eat like you’ve been living on cold pizza and pot noodles.” 

Felicity paused with another forkful half way up to her mouth.

“It’s possible I’ve taken the easy approach to cooking lately,” she said slowly. “But how did you know that? Are you having me watched?” she asked archly, only half joking.

Oliver actually snorted at that. 

“Felicity, you never cook!” he laughed.   
“And I was beginning to worry about you,” he added in a slightly more serious tone. “You look like you’ve been losing weight lately,” he said letting his eyes roam over her body in a way that had her squirming in her seat. 

“Anyway, I was just wondering if you were all right.” He shrugged and bit into a caramelized baby carrot. 

Felicity didn’t answer. She watched distractedly as he speared another tiny carrot with his fork, lifted it to his lips and took another bite.   
He chewed slowly…

With a start she realized she was staring at his mouth like an idiot.

“Uhm…I’m fine, thanks,” she mumbled. “And really I can’t imagine I’ve been losing weight with all the Big Belly burgers and Chinese take-out I’ve been having!” she blurted absentmindedly.

“Aha! I knew it!” he said, pointing at her with the fork. “I knew you weren’t feeding yourself properly.”

Felicity didn’t even bother getting upset with his meddling. She was just relieved that he didn’t seem to have noticed her momentary lapse. 

Besides, he was right, she acknowledged. She hadn’t been eating much lately. She just hadn’t had much of an appetite after…everything.   
What happened with the bomb…what she did…and on top of that, things being so weird between the two of them for months. 

She’d hoped things would get easier after they cleared the air, but she still felt…anxious, because …well, she wasn’t sure exactly. There just seemed to be a strange new awareness between them. And it was unsettling.

But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Soooo, on that note - thanks for feeding me tonight,” she said, not so subtly changing the subject with what she hoped was a gracious smile. 

“It was my pleasure,” he said softly, his voice suddenly turning warm and somehow loaded, she thought. 

And just like that, she was on edge again. 

She kept getting this nagging feeling that he was on some kind of mission tonight. Sure, he was making perfectly pleasant conversation, being funny and attentive, and absolutely in no way, crossing any lines. He seemed comfortable and carefree – almost too carefree, she observed skeptically. 

She glanced up from the leftover food she was pushing around her plate, and caught him gazing at her, warm eyes lingering on her mouth. She realized she’d been biting her bottom lip in concentration. 

‘Enough!’ she thought, pushing away her plate with a frustrated sigh. Even if she was missing something about Oliver’s impromptu visit, she was simply too exhausted to deal with it tonight. 

She resolved then and there to ignore all her loony instincts and just enjoy a casual evening, hanging out with her friend! 

***

“So, really, Oliver, that was delicious,” Felicity said, aiming for a lighthearted tone. 

“I mean…of course it was. You’re a great cook. I knew that…” she trailed off uncertainly as he continued to smile at her.

“Thank you,” he said, humor dancing in his eyes. “But I hope you saved room for dessert,” he added, as he started collecting plates and cutlery. 

“What? No! No, no, you didn’t say anything about dessert,” she whined in protest. “You should have warned me before I ate that second helping!” 

“You looked…hungry,” he shrugged and winked at her. 

Felicity distinctly felt the butterfly nest in her stomach twitching.   
‘Relax,’ she told herself. ‘He’s not flirting. He’s just being friendly. Like always. Stop searching for hidden meaning in perfectly innocent remarks.’ 

Clearly, she was reaching a new level of crazy tonight, she thought, feeling slightly irritated with herself. Oliver was simply doing a nice thing for her and she was reading all kinds of things into it. 

She cursed her overactive Oliver-antenna and promised herself – again - to let it go for the evening. 

‘Movie-night!’ Felicity thought. ‘That’s what we’ll do. We do that all the time…’ 

“Right,” she said. “Well, how about a movie with dessert then? I’m sure you still have some catching up to do,” she added.

“Sure,” he said easily. “How about I clean up here first, and then we have dessert on the couch?” 

“Eh…okay, if you insist,” she said slowly. “But I feel like I should be the one to clean up,” she added reluctantly. “You did all the cooking…”

“Yes, but this was my idea,” he countered in that annoyingly good-humored tone. “My mess – my job to clean up.”

Felicity gaped at him. The voice in the back of her head suggested she try getting a blood-sample from him just to check for any kind of mood altering substances…he was being just a little too cool, a little too perfect… 

‘What is going on with him,’ she asked herself. ‘It’s like he’s turned into a male version of a Stepford Wife! Only a lot hotter of course…’

With an exasperated shake of her head, Felicity gave up making sense of her own confused emotions and Oliver’s odd behavior. It was safer to just focus on finding their next movie while Oliver cleaned up, she decided, as she headed for the couch.

Besides, it was hard to stay annoyed when your belly was full of delicious food and your body was exhausted from a week of hard physical training. 

‘Yeah well,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘It’s not like I want him to leave or anything. I’m just slowly losing my mind…’ She glanced towards the kitchen where Oliver was busy putting the finishing touches on two plates of dessert. 

“So what am I in for tonight?” he yelled from the kitchen. “Comedy? Action?”

“...Romance?” The last word was spoken softly from directly behind her, as he placed their desserts on the coffee table. Felicity fumbled with the remote and almost dropped it. 

“Actually I’m not sure,” she said nervously. “I never saw this one, and the description isn’t much help. But it got good reviews…and I like the actors, and you know the eh…But if we don’t like it we don’t have to watch the whole thing, so I thought…”

“Felicity,” he chuckled. “It doesn’t matter to me either way – let’s just see if it’s any good.” He settled back on the couch easily, leaving plenty of room for her.

***

The movie was probably fine, Felicity thought moodily an hour later. It really wasn’t the movie’s fault that she was having such a hard time concentrating tonight. Oliver seemed completely caught up in it, so it must just be her, right? 

She sighed and tried to focus on the story. 

She had managed to eat her dessert despite the big meal and the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. And now she was curled up on the couch next to him - close but not touching – presumably watching the movie. 

But she wouldn’t have been able to say what it was about. 

She kept wondering what Oliver was up to. Wondering about his behavior these past weeks. But she was drawing a blank... 

He had done nothing improper - well, except maybe barging in on her in the shower, she conceded - but other than that, he seemed to completely respect her decision to keep things friendly. 

And yet…it was as if he had this newfound determination, she thought. Like he was clinging to some kind of private resolution, and she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was, it definitely involved her…

The sound of the wedding march playing suddenly tore her out of her reverie. For a split second she thought she’d actually lost it. Then she realized that it was coming from the TV. A wedding was in progress in the movie. A couple was standing at the altar, getting ready to take the big leap. She had a vague notion that the guy was the hero of the movie, but she hadn’t been paying enough attention. 

The wedding scene was unfolding with eerie similarity to the fairytale wedding her mom had been planning for her and Oliver just six months ago, she realized with a sudden knot in her stomach. 

Felicity shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The couple on screen was at the exchanging vows-part of the ceremony now. 

Felicity reached for her coffee cup but remembered that she’d finished her coffee half an hour ago. She dropped her hand and grabbed a throw pillow off the couch in stead and pulled it onto her lap. She fidgeted with the pillow, not daring to look at Oliver.

But as the seemingly endless declarations of love kept rolling over the screen, she couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye. 

He looked completely relaxed and absorbed by the movie, she noticed with consternation. He didn’t seem affected by the scene at all. Maybe just a little mushy-eyed but other than that he seemed fine. 

Felicity tossed the pillow aside again, and started twirling a lock of hair around her finger. She kept twisting the lock into a tight curl, then she let it spring loose again.   
Twist, twist, twist, release.  
Over and over. 

Suddenly Oliver’s warm hand closed over hers. He gently freed the tortured lock of hair, but he didn’t let go of her hand. He clasped it in both of his as he pulled it towards him, making her turn to face him. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

“Su…sure, why wouldn’t I be?” she mumbled, staring stiffly at their entwined hands in his lap. 

“Well, that scene did hit a little close to home, don’t you think?” he said. “It sure did for me, so I thought you might have been a bit uncomfortable too.” She could feel his gaze as he studied her face. 

She glanced up at him quickly to make sure he wasn’t making fun of her, but he looked serious.

“But if the scene didn’t get to you, then… just think of this as a friendly intervention on behalf of your hair,” he smiled. “I’d hate to see you pull it all out,” he continued jokingly. 

Felicity let out a shaky breath and gave him a wobbly smile. 

“I guess…I guess it did make me think about…everything that happened,” she admitted. “But that’s just natural, right?” 

“Of course it is,” he said looking at her with those warm eyes. 

And then he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. 

***

At first Felicity was too startled to move as he wrapped his arms around her in a long, tight hug.   
And then she didn’t want to. 

It was soothing and warm in his arms, and after the emotional rollercoaster of the past weeks – months to be honest - it was exactly what she needed. A friendly, reassuring hug, to say that everything was going to be all right. 

She let herself relax into it, leaning her cheek against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist as she soaked up the comforting warmth. 

The hug wasn’t demanding. It was a simple and unconditionally caring gesture.

Hard muscled arms held her tightly but gently. His chin rubbed against her forehead, his scruff slightly scratchy against her skin as he held her. 

Felicity sighed and closed her eyes. When he felt her relax, he lifted his head slightly and rested his chin on top of her head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. 

“You know,” he said pensively, “we never really did talk about that. The fake wedding, I mean.” 

Suddenly the mood changed. The air seemed charged somehow. 

Felicity made a move as if to sit up, but his arms wouldn’t let her. And she was not really ready to look at him anyway, she decided. Better to just stay where she was.

“The thing is,” he continued in that same introspective tone of voice. “That whole fake ceremony was screwed up in so many ways, I just didn’t know where to begin. And you’d already broken off the engagement anyway, so at the time it didn’t seem to matter.”

She could feel his voice rumble through his chest but she didn’t try to move again. She sat immobile, hardly daring to breath as he continued. 

“I know it was lousy timing and probably the worst circumstances ever – pretty much a monumental disaster really,” he said contemplatively.   
“But when we got up there I just had to tell you. I just really needed to say those things to you, and I wasn’t sure I was going to get another chance to do that.” He paused as if reliving the moment. 

“I was afraid that you’d never hear me out otherwise, so I took the chance,” he shrugged, but didn’t let go of her. 

“It wasn’t something I planned,” he continued. “But seeing you like that – in that dress – I just couldn’t help myself… But I’ll admit it was pretty off key considering that you’d just dumped me, the whole wedding ceremony was fake and we were in fact sitting ducks for a raving lunatic on a killing spree!”

He snorted derisively.

“So not my finest moment admittedly, but…” He paused and lifted his head to look down at her. “It was heartfelt,” he said in a quiet voice.

When she didn’t speak he continued. 

“I just had to make sure that you knew. I mean, I understood – I understand – why you broke off the engagement. I know I screwed up in the worst way possible, and I understand why you couldn’t trust me after that.”

Felicity didn’t know how to respond, but Oliver didn’t seem to need a response. He suddenly seemed very determined – like he had an agenda and he was sticking to it. 

“I know that when you came to my apartment that night a few weeks back, all you wanted was to get rid of the weirdness and get back to the way things were...before. And I love that you did that – and it’s been working, I think.”

He smiled a funny little smile at that, as if enjoying a private joke. 

“But the thing is, Felicity, these past few weeks …well, they’ve been giving me hope. Hope that maybe we can be more again. I know it’s not what you intended,” he added hurriedly, “but they did.” 

On some level Felicity was aware that she’d stopped breathing. She just sat there, listening to Oliver’s hypnotic voice telling her things that he wasn’t supposed to be saying. She should be panicking right now, that dry inner voice was telling her. But she was oddly numb. 

“I’m not asking you to respond to this right now,” Oliver continued.  
“I know I’m kind of springing this on you out of the blue.” He chuckled. “But I want to make sure that there are no misunderstandings.”

He took hold of her shoulders and pushed her away from him slightly, but he didn’t let go. He looked at her probingly, trying to read her expression. Then he continued. 

“Just to be clear,” he said, warm blue eyes holding her captive.   
“I still feel the same. I love you. I want a life with you, and not just a friendship or a working relationship. Believe me, I know that I broke what we had and that I need to fix it. I’m just giving you fair warning that I intend to do that. I’m not giving up.”

She stared at him, completely dumbfounded. How did you respond to that? What were you supposed to say to something like that? ‘Thank you’ seemed …inadequate… and she couldn’t very well give him permission, could she? she thought wildly. 

Oliver was studying the play of emotions on her face serenely. She had the irrational thought that he could read her mind and a flare of panic rose the surface. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to make that clear,” he said with an incongruously happy smile. 

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Then he dropped his arms, letting her sit back up. 

“Oliver,” she said, shaking her head in confusion. “I…I don’t know…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, once more the calm and playful Oliver who’d cooked her dinner.

“You don’t need to say anything. Besides,” he added, pushing off the couch. “It’s getting kind of late. I should probably let you get some sleep.”

His eyes seemed to hug her one more time as he winked at her. Then he turned and walked towards the door.

Felicity struggled to find a reaction – any reaction – to his declaration. But she couldn’t find anything remotely appropriate in her scattered brain, so she just sat there watching him leave. 

Talk about throwing down the gauntlet, her inner voice commented. 

‘Not helpful!’ she told herself. ‘Besides, I didn’t agree to anything…did I?’

Oliver was almost at the door when he turned to look at her again. 

“Oh, and Felicity?” he said. “Next time I pick the movie!” He flashed her a grin, and then he was gone.


	5. Full Disclosure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is trying to figure out how to react to Oliver's declaration - and feeling increasingly confused by the building tension between them as well as her own unresolved feelings in the matter.
> 
> And then Oliver plays his next card...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter isn't exactly action packed...it's more of an inner dialogue this time I guess. but tension is definitely building!

Felicity slowly came awake from a deep sleep. She felt herself rising through layers of consciousness, like a diver rising through water, going faster and faster until suddenly she broke through the surface…

Her eyes popped open to cheery, yellow sunshine flowing through the bedroom windows. For a second she stayed completely still, feeling slightly disoriented.   
She had a nagging feeling that there was something important she should remember. An odd sensation like she was balancing on a precipice. One wrong move and she could fall. 

What was that about? 

She frowned in confusion and rolled over on her side. 

And then it hit her - memories of last night washed over her in a flood of images. Oliver. Dinner. The hug. And then… 

‘Hello inner chaos and emotional turmoil!’ she thought grumpily.

With a low groan she pulled the covers back over her head, hoping to slip back into sleep so she could escape this mess for just a little while longer.

No such luck. She was annoyingly wide awake. 

With an exasperated sigh she threw back the covers, but didn’t make a move to get out of bed. She rolled onto her back again and stared at the ceiling, hoping for an epiphany. Or divine intervention…or maybe just a minor earthquake. Anything to avoid thinking about what she was going to do or examining how she felt. 

But the ceiling had no answers. It was just a slightly blurry, sun-speckled surface, too far away for her to focus on any one point without her glasses. 

Feeling irrationally put upon, Felicity rolled out of bed and shuffled towards the bathroom.

No one should be required to do any kind of rational thinking before coffee and a shower, she decided.

So she methodically pushed all thoughts of impossible men and romantic promises out of her head, as she slipped out of her pajamas and stepped into the shower. 

‘Romantic promises… ha!’ She scoffed at the thought. More like a challenge, really. But one that she clearly had no say in. 

It was a miracle that she’d gotten any sleep at all, she reflected as the hot water worked its magic on her sleep-addled brain.

She’d been so worked up after Oliver left that she’d been sure she’d toss and turn all night, but she hardly remembered going to bed. She must have passed out the minute her head hit the pillow.

‘I guess emotional stress…emotional hostage-taking really…is more exhausting than I thought’, she mumbled to her own distorted reflection in the glass wall of the shower stall.

Okay, so that was probably overstating it just a bit, she silently admitted. She may be feeling kind of blindsided by his declaration, but he had been really sweet about it.   
And when she thought about it, all he’d really done was state his intentions.

‘Ha!’ that irritating little dry voice in her head piped up. ‘All he really did was to completely overthrow your decision to end the relationship.’ She frowned and watched her mirror-image bite her lip in concentration. 

Maybe emotional hostage-taking wasn’t that far off the mark… because, just where did his announcement leave them? 

Was she supposed to just sit back and let him try to win her back? Wasn’t that almost the same as agreeing to it?   
And if she objected, wouldn’t that effectively put an end to any kind of relationship between them at all? 

“Argh!” she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “Damn you Oliver! Trust you to go and complicate the heck out of a simple decision!” She growled in frustration and started combing conditioner through her wet hair with a bit more force than necessary. 

She was just wrapping herself in the soothing comfort of a big fluffy bath towel when a really alarming thought occurred to her. 

Felicity gulped and met her own panicked gaze in the mirror. 

She’d just realized that she was going to have to see him again tonight.   
For training and Arrow-ing.   
And she hadn’t the faintest idea how to act around him right now… 

 

***

When Felicity entered the lair that evening she was half an hour late and had managed to psych herself out to a level of hysteria that made her legs feel shaky and her stomach churn.   
She felt sick. Almost sick enough to call in…well, sick, she thought darkly. 

But she had made up her mind. She wasn’t going to let Oliver’s challenge send her running.   
She wasn’t a coward or a quitter - and besides, it wouldn’t accomplish anything. She would have to face him eventually and she might as well get it over with, she reasoned.

But it didn’t stop the chaos of questions and ridiculous what-ifs running through her head. 

Like… was she supposed to acknowledge what he’d said last night? Did he expect her to respond in some way?   
What if he acted differently now?   
Oh God, would he think that she was coming on to him if she touched him during their training?   
But on the other hand, how was she supposed to fight him without touching?   
And would he be touching her?   
Well he would have to during practice of course, but would it be different? Would he be…courting her? 

Felicity felt herself blush violently in embarrassment at that last thought. ‘”Courting”? she scolded herself. ‘Seriously Smoak? How very… Harlequin Romance!’ What on earth was the matter with her? 

“Okay, let’s get back to the 21st century and handle this like adults,” she mumbled to herself. 

With a deep breath she straightened her back and rounded the corner of the corridor leading to the main room. 

…And stopped dead in her tracks as she came face to face with Oliver’s naked chest! 

Or was it ‘face to face’ when all she could see was his naked chest?   
Shouldn’t it be ‘face to naked chest’? her rambling mind suggested as she stared at him completely transfixed.

He was on the salmon ladder, apparently getting a head start on the evening’s workout. It looked like he had been at it for a while. His skin glistened with sweat and the corded muscles in his back and arms shifted and rippled as he moved fluidly up and down the ladder.   
The clanking of the metal bar and his grunts of exertion were the only sounds in the big room. 

He didn’t seem to have noticed her come in, and Felicity didn’t announce her presence as she silently moved along the perimeter of the room, all the while watching him.

He seemed to be pushing himself harder than usual, she noticed distractedly as she shrugged out of her coat, and hung it over the back of her chair. 

Watching him do that never got old, she thought appreciatively, dropping into the chair to enjoy the rest of the show. 

She’d always admired the complete control he had over his body. The perfect balance, the highly attuned reflexes, and of course his strength. He really was…spectacular, she thought dreamily. 

With a final grunt Oliver let go of the bar and dropped to the floor, landing silently. Felicity let out a sigh of equal parts disappointment and appreciation. She could watch him do that forever, and… 

“Felicity!” Oliver’s voice startled her out of her contemplation of his body. She felt a rush of heat up her neck and face as she met his eyes across the room. 

“Where were you?” he asked with an amused smile.

“What? When?” she asked a little guiltily. 

“Just now,” he replied. “You were clearly miles away. I called your name three times before you heard me,” he raised a questioning eye brow at her.

“Oh! Yes, sorry – I was just…have a lot on my mind today, you know…just stuff…” she trailed off with a vague gesture. 

His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, and then he shrugged and smiled a small knowing smile.

Felicity narrowed her eyes at him. 

“So, how are you feeling today?” he asked unperturbed, wiping sweat off his face with a towel. 

‘Oh no,’ she thought frantically. ‘Here we go. But please no! I can’t talk about that just yet…need time! What do I do?’… 

“Are you ready for a workout or do you think you need a longer break?” he continued.   
“Because if you’re still sore I think we should wait a day or two,” he carried on apparently oblivious to her floundering. 

“I…Oh! Sore?…yes, I mean…no. I mean…”   
‘Deep breath Smoak,’ she thought, trying to bring her mind out of Disaster City and focus on the mundane subject of her training.

“What I meant to say is, I’m fine and I’d like to do a bit of one-on-one today.” She glanced at his sweat glistening torso, and then quickly looked away again.

“I mean, yes, I’m ready to start training again,” she hurried to clarify when she saw his crooked smile.

“Unless you’re all done working out that is,” she added. 

“No, I just decided to get a little workout in before you got here in case you weren’t up for it,” he replied casually. 

‘Was that laughter she saw in his eyes? Was he laughing at her? How dare he! And also…what the hell?’ she thought incredulously. ‘Was that it? Was he just going to ignore IT? Go on as usual? As if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her last night?’ 

She stared at him for a second, thinking that any minute now, he’d bring up the topic of winning her back. But Oliver just started lining up equipment for their workout. 

With a resigned sigh, Felicity finally picked up her gym bag and went to the bathroom to change. 

“He’s so not playing fair”, she mumbled grumpily as she pulled the door closed behind her and started stripping. “Keeping me in suspense. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

She rummaged through her bag for her running tights and tank top, pointedly ignoring the paradox of her own reaction. 

She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, so she should be happy he didn’t bring it up, right?  
Absolutely!

But then again, why didn’t he want to talk about it? That wasn’t natural, was it? You didn’t just drop a bomb like that and they go on as if nothing had happened.   
Too right, you didn’t! 

‘Enough!’ she decided. If he wasn’t going to bring it up, she sure as hell wasn’t going to either…even if he did have her on pins and needles…the bastard. 

With an indignant huff, she zipped up her gym back and headed back out to face Oliver.

 

***

By the end of the evening Felicity was thoroughly confused. If his plan was to win her over by slowly driving her crazy he was pretty close to succeeding, she thought testily as she powered down her computers and reached for her bag.

She glanced over at Oliver. He was putting away his Arrow suit, storing his bow and going through his routine like any other night. 

It had been quiet on the streets tonight. There had been a few incidents but nothing major. 

Certainly not enough to keep her mind from returning to their current…status…over and over again.

And it just didn’t make any sense. 

Oliver didn’t make sense. All evening he’d acted the same as always. He hadn’t once mentioned their conversation from last night.

The only difference was perhaps that he seemed to be watching her a little more closely than usual – although, she conceded, that could also just be her own hyper awareness of him. 

And their training had been the same as always…well, except maybe for her being so preoccupied that she’d been falling over herself so often that Oliver had made a cute comment about not needing to take her down, since she managed that just fine on her own! 

The nerve of the man!

He had finally decided that she obviously hadn’t fully recovered and had suggested he teach her about pressure points instead of the usual fight training. 

Felicity blushed and started pulling on her coat. 

Pressure point-training as it turned out was very effective and interesting from a scientific point of view. 

But it was also extremely unsettling because it meant getting VERY up close and personal with him without the distraction of the more action packed fight-training. 

She’d had a hard time concentrating on his instructions – and she was usually a stellar student! Always had been.

But then her teachers had never been anything like Oliver…   
And her lessons had never involved hands sliding up arms, fingers trailing down the side of necks, being locked in tight embraces that felt more like hugs than attacks, warm breath in her hair, fingers probing, searching… 

Her lessons had never before made her breath quicken and her skin tingle in the way that this one had. 

And all the while his warmth, his scent, his strength wrapped around her, playing with her senses, making her forget what she was doing.

But the most frustrating part of it all was that Oliver didn’t let on that he was in any way affected. 

Okay, so his hand might have lingered a little longer than necessary on her neck when he demonstrated where to put pressure.   
And maybe it hadn’t been strictly necessary for him to trail his fingers up her arm in that way to reach the pressure point at her elbow.   
And it was possible that he hadn’t needed to hold her quite so tight when it was her turn to try and find the right spot on his shoulder. 

But she couldn’t be sure because she’d been so befuddled herself that she wouldn’t have noticed if he’d started tap-dancing!

By the end of the training session she’d been in such a state of sexual frustration she’d been scared she might spontaneously combust.

But in all fairness, that little dry voice in the back of her head argued, she’d never pretended NOT to be attracted to him. Physical attraction had never been their problem. 

She felt her cheeks grow warm at the thought. 

Yeah, no, she definitely wasn’t immune to him, she admitted to herself. 

But that didn’t mean that she was going to just roll over and let him steamroll her back into a relationship, she reminded herself.

But was that really what was going on here? the sensible part of her brain tried to butt in. He hadn’t actually tried to steamroll her into anything. He’d just let her know what he wanted. What she chose to do with that was entirely up to her…right?

‘Okay, I need sleep,’ she decided. ‘Sleep…and maybe a cold shower to get rid of all this sexual tension that’s messing with my mind right now. Can’t think straight with all of…that… going on…’

With a sigh she picked her bag up off the floor.

 

***

 

‘Odd,’ she thought with a frown, hefting her bag experimentally. The bag felt wrong somehow. It felt heavier than before and didn’t it look bulkier too? 

She put in down again and unzipped it. 

“What the…” she mumbled as a small bundle of scruffy looking books spilled out. 

She sat back on her heels and stared in confusion. The string that had held the small volumes together had come apart as the stack tumbled out of the bag, and now the books were fanned out over the floor. She picked up the closest volume and started leafing through it. 

Hand written. They were notebooks. She opened the book at a random page, and started reading. 

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed and snapped the book shut as she shot to her feet.

They were not just notebooks. They were Oliver’s journals. 

“How did these get in my bag?” she mumbled to herself, staring at the book in her hand. There was no way Oliver would have put them in her bag – the books were his therapy, he’d once explained, and she’d never… 

“I see you found them,” Oliver’s quiet voice interrupted her deliberation.

“Did you put them in my bag?” she asked incredulously. “But these are your journals Oliver.”

“I know,” he said with a small smile. “I want you to read them.”

He closed the distance between them and took the book from her hand. He opened it and glanced at the first page. 

“I know it’s always frustrated you that I have such a hard time talking about what happened to me while I was away, and about how I process things because of it,” he continued in a soft voice.

He closed the book, and held it out for her to take.

“Even when we were together, I found it difficult to explain to you exactly what had happened. Part of me wanted to, but it’s so complicated. And then part of me was scared too. Of how you’d see me if you found out all the things I’d done and all the things that happened to me…”

He gazed at her for a moment. His eyes were warm and trusting but there was a flicker of… something there that made her wary. 

“I know I’ve told you a good deal of the facts about my years away…more than I’ve ever told anyone else,” he said. 

“But I haven’t told you everything…and the thing is, just accounting for the facts won’t explain. They’re only part of the story. The really important stuff happened inside me – at least to me that is the most important part of the story – even though the factual stuff was pretty awful for the most part too…” He trailed off with a faraway look in his eyes. 

Felicity didn’t know what to say. She was vaguely aware that the hand she’d reached out to take the book from him, had somehow taken his hand in stead, dropping the book unnoticed to the top of the pile on the floor. 

“The thing that came between us was about my keeping secrets,” Oliver said once more focusing on her. “So for a start I thought I’d try and share with you what happened to me in the best way I know how.”

“Most of this is actually written since I came back but I’ve used these journals to…work through things, and try to make sense of it all. You can read them if you want to. If you have any questions I’ll answer them. Full disclosure, you know? ” He smiled a small, self-deprecating smile as his eyes met hers. 

Felicity felt her stomach clench at the sudden vulnerability she saw there. This was new. She’d seen him scared and vulnerable before, but this was different. He was laying himself and his ugly past open to her. And she was almost scared to accept that responsibility, she realized.

“Oliver,” she began. “You don’t have to…I mean I don’t have to read these… I never meant that we had to share our every thought and feeling with each other. We all have thoughts and reactions we don’t want to share with others – even the ones closest to us.”

“I know,” he said, once again all warm eyes and soft smile. “But this is something I’ve always wanted to tell you. I just haven’t been able to put it into words when I tried to say it out loud. I think maybe it was so difficult even for me to face that the only way to get it out was to write it down. So please. Take them.” He looked at her seriously.

She couldn’t look away. She lost herself in his eyes for a long moment, wondering what that crumbling feeling inside her was all about. 

With a start Felicity realized she was still holding his hand. 

He seemed to realize it at the same time, because just as she was about to drop it, his hand squeezed hers and with no warning at all he drew her in for another hug. 

This time there was no pretense of practical purposes of friendly soothing. 

This time is was all about need and longing. They clung to each other for a never-ending moment, both of them pushing closer, needing the physical contact to make up for the emotional distance that still hadn’t been closed. Felicity didn’t even stop to question it.

With a visible effort Oliver finally broke the embrace holding her by the shoulders. 

“You should go,” he said in a strained voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked out.


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is reading the journals learning things and processing - and suddenly Oliver is the one in suspense.
> 
> Questions need to be answered and when they are Felicity realizes that she has a decision to make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally had the time to continue the story...almost there now, but there are a few things they need to cover first ;-)

By the time Felicity got home she had a plan. It was simple.   
She was going to get into her pajamas, make a cup of coffee – she wasn’t planning on getting any sleep anyway – and settle in for an all-nighter with Oliver’s journals.   
Well, as much of the night as was left anyway…

She was eager to get started and was ready in a matter of minutes, curled up on the couch with a steaming cup of coffee cradled in her hands, and the notebooks within easy reach in a neat pile on the low coffee table. All fired up and ready to get started… 

And then something inside her pressed pause. 

For a long moment she just sat there staring at the books. Tentatively she reached out and pulled the top one into her lap. But she didn’t open it. 

It suddenly felt wrong.

She slowly stroked the thin volume, reluctant to begin. 

She felt like she was about to violate his privacy in a way that was so far beyond acceptable, it felt almost criminal. What was she doing? You didn’t read other people’s journals. It was like…like hacking into their brains!   
Or their hearts... Not okay! 

‘But he asked you to’, that dry little voice in the back of her head pointed out. ‘He wants you to read them because he can’t tell you these things and he wants you to know.’

“Yeah well, that’s great in theory,” she mumbled to the empty room. “But what about all the rest in here? What if there’s stuff about me? About us?”

Married people didn’t even read each other’s journals for crying out loud! How could she even think about reading Oliver’s – even if he was her ex-fiancé? 

She flinched slightly at the word. Still not something she could say – or think – casually it seemed. 

“Oh my God!” she suddenly sat up straight and threw the book down on the table as if it had burned her fingers. 

“What if he wrote about his other girlfriends?” she demanded of the darkened living room. 

With a low moan Felicity slumped back on the couch, throwing a pillow over her face as if to block out the sight of the books. This was exactly why reading someone else’s journal was never a good idea. You might get information you really didn’t want. 

Felicity hugged the pillow to her chest and stared at the ceiling. 

Oliver had started these notebooks long before they were together and she was only too aware that there had been a number of other women in his life during those years. She was also pretty sure she didn’t feel up to reading his innermost thoughts on former lovers.

‘Lovers! Yuck! Don’t think of them like that,’ she admonished herself. ‘It sounds so creepy…’

But would he have given the notebooks to her if they were full of stuff about other women? She sat back up, mindlessly twisting a lock of hair as she thought it over. 

No, Oliver would never do that, she decided. He was extremely private with his romantic life and besides…it would just be too cruel to make her read about his affection for someone else. A lesser man might have used it to get back at her for breaking up with him, but not Oliver. 

She waivered for a few more minutes. Then she pulled the whole pile of journals into her lap and started combing through them to find the earliest one. 

She pulled it out of the stack and set about deliberately shutting down her inner doubts and warning signals. 

Before she could change her mind again, she opened the book and began reading.

 

***

 

At first Felicity thought she might just skim through them… read a section here and there, just to get a general idea of defining moments, what had been going on with him, what he’d been through, that sort of thing. 

But once she started reading, she couldn’t stop. 

It felt like Oliver was talking to her through his journals, telling her things he hadn’t told anyone before, things that were so intensely private and intimate it felt almost like seeing him naked for the first time…except not, obviously…because seeing him naked…physically naked…had always been a major distraction…   
And this was different.   
This was not his naked body, but his naked soul. 

Some of the things he wrote about didn’t completely make sense to her – which was understandable considering it was a journal, she figured. Because who’d tell themselves all the details of the Who, When, What, Where, and Why in a journal? No one did that. 

But once she got past the lack of factual and descriptive detail, she started focusing on the things that were there. 

Oliver mainly wrote about his own thoughts and reactions to things that happened to him, things that he had done or knew he was going to do. 

It was an eye-opener, and not a pleasant one. His notes were more than enough to give her a picture of what he’d been through and the change he’d undergone.

Some of it she already knew, or guessed. Some of it was unexpected. And some of it was absolutely heart wrenching… More than once she’d wanted to rush over to his place just to hug him, after reading a particularly painful episode. 

But there were other things too – things that were just puzzling. 

Felicity took another sip of coffee and frowned down at the volume she was reading. 

That last passage made no sense. 

She double-checked the date of the entry. If the date was right then…but that made no sense. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, and read it one more time. 

The passage she was reading was his thoughts on their first meeting. An encounter that she’d personally memorized and replayed in her head a million times over before they were ever actually together. 

And now she saw that Oliver had apparently had some of the same thoughts, except he’d described it in a strange way. 

“I found her,” he’d written. “Her name is Felicity Smoak and she’s brilliant. I was not expecting to see her, but I’m glad to have finally met her. She’s so REAL. I guess it wasn’t a dream after all. I think I might have acted even dumber than my air-headed playboy-image requires, but seeing her – it took me by surprise. She made me smile again. There’s just something about this girl…”

Felicity frowned at the page. What ‘wasn’t a dream’? And what did he mean ‘I found her’? That was a weird way to put it, she thought, biting her lip distractedly. 

But maybe it was just his way of describing the same feeling she’d had that day.   
She remembered how she’d felt when he walked into her office for the first time.   
There’d been this instant familiarity – almost like recognition. It really had been like meeting an old friend again – only more…electric somehow. 

‘Nerve-wrecking, actually,’ she recalled with a blush.   
But then he had been the billionaire playboy, heir to the empire, and she had been a lowly IT-girl – with an inexplicable crush on a guy she’d only ever seen in photos. It was always bound to be a bit awkward.   
‘I was a babbling mess with him…and he thought HE acted dumb?’ she chuckled to herself. 

Still, it was an odd way to put it…

Felicity shrugged and filed the passage away as another detail she might ask him about tomorrow.   
Or later today to be exact…

She suddenly realized that the apartment was flooded with light. Golden morning sunlight. She’d lost track of time and had read through the night.

But she felt surprisingly awake, her head full of Oliver. 

She stretched and sighed. Slumped back against the couch she stared out the window, trying to process all the things she’d learned tonight. 

Reading the journals had been both gratifying and horrifying. 

It was gratifying to discover that she did in fact know him as well as she thought.  
And it was horrifying to find out exactly what he’d gone through. His self-doubt and self-recriminations especially made her want to call him up to contradict him every five minutes or so. 

And even though he didn’t put it into so many words, his heartache was clearly written between the lines. 

It was strange, she mused, but somehow, reading his owns words about how he’d felt and what he’d thought about all those devastating events – she felt like she’d known all along how he felt and thought. 

Not that he’d ever explained any of it before. She’d just always suspected that this was how it was for him. How he processed all the terrible things that happened to him. 

And now it was killing her that he had sacrificed so much for the people he loved - yet somehow he still seemed to feel that he’d deserved to suffer. 

The only thing that made I bearable was the sense that his journals seemed to be written by a sort of ‘work in progress’-version of the man she’d intended to marry.

He had gotten through some of that darkness and self-loathing. Although she strongly suspected he still had doubts. And she knew for a fact that he still had a tendency to blame himself first for everything that went wrong.

But he had definitely moved on since he wrote these. She knew that much – even if he didn’t. 

 

***

 

Over the course of the next week Felicity found that their relationship was changing yet again. There was a new tension, but not the awkward stiff politeness from before – it was more like an electric current underlying every exchange. It was like there was a new awareness, an excitement that was building every day. 

Like when she arrived at the lair that first night after reading his journals.

He’d been waiting, clearly anxious about her reaction, but he hadn’t said anything. He’d waited for her to make a move.

At first she’d just gone about her business, getting changed for training, not mentioning the journals at all. She knew she was keeping him in suspense, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to broach the subject. It was one thing for her to be reading these things, all alone in the privacy of her home, late at night. It was an entirely different matter to confront him with it and ask the very personal questions she wanted answered. 

And also, she acknowledged, he’d had her so off balance lately that on some level she kind of liked to have the upper hand for a little while. And if that made her a bad person, so be it. She could admit to the need to feel in charge for once! 

But Oliver wasn’t letting her put it off for long. 

After the first few rounds on the mat he felled her with a sweep of his leg and pinned her down. Normally he’d let her go immediately, but this time he just shifted a bit so he wasn’t crushing her with his weight, but he kept her pinned down, his face just inches above hers.

“So talk to me, Felicity,” he said. “I’m sure you have questions.” He gave her a half smile that was both endearingly nervous and slightly knowing. 

‘Vulnerable and sexy - unfair combination’ her mind registered. But he was right of course. She did have questions. Lots of them actually. 

Then a little devil got into her. She wasn’t going to be bullied into talking, she decided.   
She smiled up at him sweetly, while sliding her leg between his, lifting her left leg over his right, to hook around his knee the way he’d taught her. With a swift rotation of her hip she pulled his leg towards her, simultaneously pushing at his shoulder, flipping him on his back. 

She followed immediately, straddling him and pinning his shoulders to the ground.   
“I’m, not sure I like your interrogation technique Mr. Queen,” she purred, not quite able to hide the triumphant look on her face. 

Felicity was feeling pretty good about her self for all of a second. Then she noticed the gleam in his eyes, and knew instantly, that he’d been well aware what she was doing - and he’d let her!

“No? Well, I have to say I’m quite enjoying yours,” he laughed, grabbing her around the waist and easily reversing their position again.

This time he didn’t shift to lift his weight off her, as he looked down on her, laughter dancing in his eyes. 

“Get off me you cheat,” she complained, pushing against his solid shoulders with absolutely no effect. 

“Cheat?” he said, eyebrows raised and an innocent ‘who-me?’-expression on his face. “What did I do?” 

“You let me flip you!” she grumbled, “and straddle you, and pretended I had you.” 

“I’m just trying to built your confidence,” he said with a grin. “And it was a good move. I liked it.”

She blinked up at him, trying to decide if he was poking fun at her. 

“So,” he said. “Questions. Do you have any?” he smiled down at her, his eyes briefly straying to her lips, before returning to hers. 

She licked her lips nervously, not really sure where to start. Their position on the mat didn’t exactly help her think straight, she admitted, feeling heat creep into her cheeks. 

“I…sure, I have questions,” she said a little breathlessly. “But I’m not sure I’ll have the oxygen necessary to ask them when you’re crushing me like this,” she complained a little testily, wriggling slightly underneath him. 

“You seem to have plenty of oxygen for talking,” he laughed, but she sensed that underneath the joking façade he was tense and on edge. 

Before she could make up her mind about what to do next, Oliver was rolling off her, bringing her with him. He helped her to her feet but didn’t let go of her hand.

Her led her off the mat to the bench in the corner and sat down, pulling her down with him. There wasn’t much room, but the bench was in a dark corner of the room, which suited her just fine. For the things she wanted to ask, she kind of liked to be half hidden in the shadows. 

“Talk to me Felicity,” he repeated in a soft voice. 

***

 

Felicity glanced at him quickly, trying to decide where to start. 

“I’ve been reading your journals,” she started. “I mean, I’m not done, but I’ve read quite a lot.”

“And?” he pushed. Obviously it was his turn to be on pins and needles. 

“Well…I was thinking I should save my questions till I’m done reading,” she said a little pointedly, “but if you insist there are a few things I might need you to clear up for me right now.”

He just gave her a look. Felicity was almost tempted to stick her tongue out at him for pushing this. But it was obvious how nervous this was making him. 

“And who can blame him really,” that little voice in her head piped up. “He just handed over his darkest secrets to you – of course he’s going to worry about your reaction.”

“Okay, so off the top of my head there are a few incidents you describe that had me wondering,” she relented.

“Like, the way you wrote about the first time you and I met? Do you remember?” She looked at him expectantly.

“I remember everything about that meeting,” he said carefully. He suddenly looked a little guarded she noticed.

“But I’m not sure I recall exactly what I wrote about it,” he hedged.

“You wrote ‘I found her’, and some other stuff that sounded a little…strange.” Felicity looked at him to see if it was coming back to him, but he was looking away from her suddenly.

“I was just curious I guess,” she added a little hesitantly. “You know, it didn’t really make sense, so I was wondering if it was just a figure of speech…or something?”

“Or something…” he said in a low voice, his head still turned away. 

She didn’t speak. She just waited for him to continue. He’d told her to ask questions, so he’d better be prepared to answer!

He turned to face her again, his eyes searching her face for a second. 

“I…I don’t really know where to start with that one,” he said apologetically. “It’s sort of embarrassing really,” he added with a shrug. 

‘Embarrassing?’ That was the last thing she’d imagined he’d say.

“Well, now I’m REALLY curious,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “Tell me Oliver – what did you mean?”

He made a face, and reached out to take her hand. He started playing with her fingers while he talked. 

“That day at the office when I brought you my lap-top,” he started. “That wasn’t the first time I saw you.”

“Wha…aat?” she managed, frantically searching her mind for a previous meeting. Had she accidentally run into him and not noticed? Not very likely. She would definitely have remembered.

“Do you remember I once told you how during the 5 years I was away, I’d been sent back home at one point? I told you I’d seen Thea?” he looked at her questioningly.

She nodded. ‘But what did that have to do with her?’ she wondered.

“Well, Thea wasn’t the only one I saw on that visit,” he continued, his voice suddenly velvety soft.

“I saw you too.”

She felt her mouth fall open in a surprised oh! But she didn’t say anything. She just waited for him to explain. 

“The reason they sent me back home was so I could break into Queen Consolidated,” he continued, still talking in that soft, almost hypnotic voice. 

“I was not supposed to contact anyone or be seen by anyone - I was a ghost, but they were counting on the fact that no one bothered to delete the access code for a dead person. And they happened to be right. I was able to access the computer system and do what they’d told me to do...” he was staring off into the distance now, not really seeing the lair at all she suspected. 

“It was late evening, dark outside, and I was in the office, finishing up when suddenly someone was coming. I heard the elevator open. Heard footsteps in the hallway. There wasn’t time for me to get out, so I hid in the shadows. But I was able to watch.” He sounded far off, like he was reliving that night again in his head.

“You walked in,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking up in a half smile. “You were dropping off a file. You walked in and placed it on the desk, completely unaware that I was there, watching. But you didn’t just drop off the file and leave. You lingered, looking at the photos on the desk. You picked up a picture of me.” This time his smile reached his eyes as he glanced at her quickly.

“You thought I was cute, and …”

“What?” she blurted. “Presumptuous much? How do you know what I thought?”

“You said so,” he dead-panned. 

“No!” she gasped. “I was talking to myself? Oh, I really have to stop doing that!” Mortified, she hid her face in her hands.

“That’s what you said then too,” he laughed. 

“What else did I say?” she peeking at him from behind her hands. 

“Nothing embarrassing,” he said still smiling at her. 

“But the thing is, Felicity, at that point I’d been in a living hell for years. I’d been living a parallel life – I was literally a ghost. Everybody I knew thought I was dead. I was living in the world but apart form it. I couldn’t interact with anyone, and I had started feeling…unreal. But that night…seeing you, hearing you talking about me as if I was real…dead, but real…it made me feel alive for the first time in so long.” He reached for her hand again and squeezed it.

“I remember my face feeling sort of funny,” he laughed. “Because I was smiling. I was looking at you and I was smiling – and I hadn’t smiled in so long I thought I’d forgotten how.” 

He smiled at her then.

“So I promised myself right then and there, that if I ever got my life back, I’d find you.”

He looked at her meaningfully.

“Turns out I didn’t have to look.” He gave her another half smile. “But that’s what I meant when I wrote that…’I found her’.” He shrugged a little self-consciously. 

Felicity was lost for words. She just stared at him for a long moment. 

“Felicity?” he finally asked, clearly worried about her reaction.

“I…you…you were watching me?” she finally managed. “That’s a little creepy really, don’t you think?” she said still a little stunned. “Not that I think you’re creepy of course,” she hurriedly added.   
“But wait…so…you’re saying you knew who I was when we met that day…with your lap-top? And you’ve never mentioned this before…in all these years? Even when we lived together? But… why?”

She was looking at him, but not really seeing him. She was just letting her mouth say the words running through her head as she processed. 

“Because I couldn’t very well tell you I’d seen you when I was supposed to be on the Island without explaining what I was doing back home, or why I didn’t just come out and reveal that I was alive,” he said quietly.   
“It’s just one of those many, many things I kept secret from all of you because…it was just too complicated to explain…and because explaining that would mean revealing other things that I had to do at that time. Things that I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing.” He looked at her seriously. 

“But I’ll tell you now if you want to know.” 

She half turned on the bench so she was facing him. Her eyes searched his face for a moment. 

“You know, I don’t think I need to know the details,” she said softly, looking down at their still entangled hands. “You’ve told me some things. I’ve found out more reading your journals, and I’ve guessed a whole lot more over the years. I know enough. I was just surprised, I think. Because you did tell me you saw Thea, so…why not mention that you saw me too?” she looked up to meet his eyes again.

“Well, at the time…when I told you about seeing Thea? I thought I was on my way to another really dark chapter of my life so I just didn’t think it was the time or place for it” He shrugged. “And you and I…we weren’t together if you remember?”

Then he smiled crookedly and when he looked back at her, a little humor had crept into his eyes. 

“Of course that changed pretty quickly, but there were so many other things going on at the time it just didn’t seem important then.” 

Felicity felt her face grow hot at the thought of what had followed. She could tell he was thinking of it too by the way his eyes darkened. Suddenly the mood changed. The air felt charged somehow. Felicity was finding it difficult to breath. 

She was barely aware that she had started leaning towards him, when he let go of her hands, and placed both hands on her shoulders in stead. At first she thought he was going to pull her closer, but he held her at a distance, looking intently at her face. As if reaching a private decision he bent forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he let her go and leaned back to put some space between them. 

She felt a little dizzy and strangely disappointed. 

“So…was there anything else you wanted to ask me?” he said, his voice sounded strained she noticed.

“Sure,” she muttered absentmindedly. “I have questions…”

But right then and there her mind went blank. The only question that mattered had nothing to do with his journals and it certainly wasn’t one that he could answer for her.

She needed to think…


	7. Can We Try Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has finally decided to have The Talk! It's time to clear the air and get on with things. Except, somehow that sort of talk just has a way of getting tense, high-strung and out of control nerve-wrecking ...even when you think you know what you want...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da - the finale. And just a warning in advance...I may have kind of gotten carried away with the mushy stuff towards the end. Sorry if I over-indulged a bit with the fluff <3 - it's just been sooooo long since we got this on screen!

Felicity had a sense of déjà vu as she stepped out of the elevator in the hallway leading to Oliver’s apartment. It didn’t seem that long ago she’d stood exactly in this spot, hoping to get her friend back. 

She smiled a little at the memory of that night. With a slight shake of her head she walked down the hall towards his front door. 

It was getting late, and under normal circumstances they would have been busy – he on the streets, she in front of her computers in the Arrow cave. But Oliver had decided that they both needed the night off.

‘And just when she’d been ready to have ‘The Talk’ too!’ she thought mildly frustrated. 

She’d paced the floors of her own apartment for hours debating with herself what to do, until finally she’d decided she just didn’t want to wait any longer. 

All week they’d been doing this dance around each other. 

Oliver wasn’t pushing her for an answer exactly but she definitely had the impression that he was expecting her to declare herself soon. And even though he hadn’t mentioned it again, he’d found a million little ways to make sure she knew what he wanted. 

She’d pretended to still be working through his journals and had kept asking questions – questions that she hardly even wanted the answer to – just to buy time. But in truth she’d already made up her mind.

And all the while his cute little comments and all the seemingly accidental touches were getting harder and harder to ignore.   
The sexual tension between them was reaching epic proportions at this point, she thought wryly. In fact, it was getting dangerously close to explosive. And it was definitely making their training sessions trickier. She blushed as she recalled their last tumble on the mat.

She knew the growing tension was largely her fault for not speaking out - but she’d had things she needed to work out. Issues she had to think through. And this week had done a lot to clear things up for her. 

But now she was ready to explain herself. 

Which is exactly what she’d been planning to do tonight before he decided to give them the night off. 

Really lousy timing from her point of view, she grumbled silently.   
But she could see why Oliver might feel they both needed at breather from the loaded atmosphere in the lair. 

She couldn’t help a small smile and a delicious shiver at the thought of how close they’d come to disregarding their unresolved issues last night. 

No, she definitely had to see him and clear things up, she decided. It really couldn’t’ wait!

So here she was. 

Once again standing in this hallway, facing his closed front door, feeling ridiculously aware of her own breathing and sweaty palms. 

But why was she so nervous? This time she had no reason to be. He had already made his intentions clear - multiple times even. This should be easy. 

So why did she suddenly feel like she wanted to throw up?

Felicity closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to clear her head and focus on her breathing like her yoga instructor always told her to…but of course this wasn’t the time it was finally going to happen, she realized with a sigh.

“Don’t be a coward,” she mumbled to herself, squaring her shoulders and giving the door a determined look before knocking. 

She might have knocked a little harder than what was absolutely necessary. The noise echoed through the hallway and she almost turned and fled in embarrassment. 

“Oops!” she whispered, feeling a blush wash up her neck. “So much for subtle and composed,” she mumbled to herself. 

And then the door flew open and a bare-chested Oliver appeared. 

***

 

Felicity felt her mouth go dry and she momentarily forgot what she was doing there. 

He looked good. 

He looked…sleepy, she decided as she took in his rumbled appearance. He was dressed in a pair of low-riding sweat pants, and was in the process of pulling a white t-shirt over his head, leaving a generous amount of naked chest and chiseled abs for her to ogle. 

“Felicity?” he mumbled from behind the fabric of his shirt. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

He finally managed to pull the shirt down and was able to see her face. Just in time to see her peel her eyes off his toned abs, she realized, blushing even deeper. 

“Sorry,” she blurted. “I should have called. You were clearly sleeping. Or something. That involves not being dressed... I didn’t think…I thought…I mean, I wanted…”

She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself talking and watched him do that slow tilt of his head followed by the little smirk he always did when he thought she was being funny, or cute or – like now – babbling.

“Come on in Felicity,” he said, opening the door wider. His voice was low and rough with sleep, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes.

She moved to step past him but he didn’t shift to make room for her. She brushed up against him lightly as she passed. The electric current that shot through her at the fleeting contact almost made her gasp. 

‘Focus!’ she mentally snapped at herself. ‘Don’t get side-tracked now…’

She put a little more distance between them than necessary before she turned to look at him. His eyes were gleaming with laughter – again. And mischief. But there was something else there too. Maybe he wasn’t quite as relaxed as he pretended?

Felicity glanced around the apartment as she slipped off her coat. Nothing much had changed since her last visit. 

But it was obvious that he had in fact been sleeping. The futon-sofa had been turned down to a bed, and the sheets were all rumbled. Part of her felt a little bit resentful that he had been sleeping peacefully while she’d been pacing the floors of her place. 

How could he just lose himself in sleep when something this important needed to be fixed?

“Technically he already made his position clear,” that little dry voice in the back of her mind pointed out. “So maybe he had no trouble sleeping. He knows what he wants.”

“Ha!” she muttered. As if it was as simple as that. 

“What was that?” Oliver’s sleep-deepened voice sounded from directly behind her. He reached around her to take the coat out of her hands. He was barely touching her, but she was still hyper aware of him with every inch of her body. His body heat seemed to seep through her dress, setting her nerve endings on fire, making her hands shake. 

Her hands were shaking? She stared down at them for a second, uncomprehending. Then she clenched them into fists, hoping that he hadn’t noticed. 

What was wrong with her? She just had to talk to him. To clear things up. How hard could it be? 

She was so caught up in her own scattered thoughts that she didn’t notice when he moved away to deposit her coat on a hanger by the door. 

She didn’t notice him come back either until two large hands closed around her shoulders. He steered her towards the sofa-bed and pressed her down. 

Felicity had a vague notion that she should protest. This was too soon. She had things to say. Things that needed to be said. Before anything else could happen she needed to tell him…

“Do you want coffee? Wine? Water? … Anything?” Oliver’s voice interrupted her rambling mind. 

With a start she realized that he had simply sat her down and was now moving towards the kitchen. He hadn’t tried to short-circuit the process. He wasn’t jumping the gun on anything. He’d just made her sit. 

“On the only available piece of furniture,” that annoying little voice chuckled. 

“Yeah, okay – silly me,” she mumbled. “But it wouldn’t have been that far out for him to think this was a booty call. Me showing up at his place in the middle of the night. In fact, why didn’t he think that?” she frowned at the night-darkened windows, biting her lip speculatively. 

“Felicity?” Oliver’s voice pulled her back to the present. 

“What? Oh! Drink…yes, some water maybe?” she replied. 

“So what’s going on Felicity?” he asked conversationally while rummaging through cupboards for water and glasses. 

He bent to pick a couple of chilled bottles of water out of the fridge, and Felicity found herself watching him in fascination. He moved so easily, so seemingly unaware of how he affected her. 

“Oh! Er…nothing. I mean, something…of course. Why else would I wake you up in the middle of the night? The one night you finally decide to actually sleep…” she trailed off as it occurred to her, that maybe she hadn’t chosen the best time for this. 

Oliver just smiled at her. That warm yet slightly mischievous smile that told her he was enjoying this – and possibly playing her a little. 

“Look, Oliver,” she tried again, as he came back to the couch and sat down next to her. “I’m sorry to wake you but I just really needed to see you.” 

He sat the glasses and water bottles on the low table and tugged one leg under him as he turned side ways to face her. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought maybe it was time to clear this up.” She glanced at him, not entirely sure how to go on. 

His expression was one of mild curiosity – but she thought she detected a bit of apprehension there too. 

“I mean, there are things...things that need to be said,” she soldiered on. 

“A few weeks ago, you told me that you wanted to get back together. That you hadn’t given up on us.”

She had his attention now she could tell. He didn’t move, but she could feel him tense up.

“So I have been doing a lot of thinking. And I have some things to tell you,” she carried on. 

There was no humor in his eyes now. His just sat there, very still, like he was waiting for a verdict. 

 

***

Felicity took a deep breath and took a moment to organize her thoughts. 

“Oliver, what you said… I didn’t know what to say that night, when you told me that you want to get back together. But it’s not for the reason you may think. I DO know what I want,” she said. “I’ve known for a while now. But there are some things I want to explain first. Things that I think YOU need to know. And it has to do with why I broke off the engagement.”

He looked tense she noticed, but he didn’t interrupt. 

“See, I always thought I knew why you felt you had to keep William a secret from me. I figured you kept him a secret to protect him - and possibly me too - which wasn’t surprising. I thought that you felt you had no choice. I didn’t necessarily agree with that,” she hurried to add, “but it wasn’t in itself the reason why I broke off the engagement.” 

That seemed to take him by surprise. He stared at her intently as she continued.

“Sure, the secret-keeping was a big part of it,” she conceded. “But see, the thing is, Oliver,” she explained, “before this happened I thought that I could handle the occasional secret. Your need to protect everyone else was always part of you, part of the way you deal with crises.”

“But what happened with William…it just made me realize that it wasn’t about you keeping secrets or about you protecting everybody. It wasn’t about protecting me. What it was…was you not trusting me. Or anybody” 

“And I understand why trust is difficult for you – after everything that happened to you. I thought I could handle it.” She shrugged a little helplessly. “Turns out dealing with it as your friend, as your partner in crime fighting – it’s just very different from dealing with it as your wife. Or fiancé…” she trailed off. 

She peeked up at him from under her lashes, but didn’t wait for him to talk. 

“What happened with William made me question a lot of things. Like, did I really know you as well as I thought I did? Did you know me? Did you trust me the way you should trust the person you were going to marry? Because you really can’t marry someone that you don’t trust completely, Oliver. And I couldn’t marry someone who didn’t trust me.” 

Felicity paused to gather her thoughts for a moment. 

“So I ended it. And since then… I just didn’t see how I could go back to a relationship where I’d forever be wondering if I really had your full trust. If you were even capable of giving that to anyone. So…for me to reconsider…I needed to believe that you could give me that.” 

She looked up to se if he was following her. 

And then she felt like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. His stormy gaze met hers. Blue eyes turned so dark they looked almost black bore into her. He looked so…lost. 

‘What on earth…?’ she thought.

For a few heartbeats she was speechless. There was no sound - just Oliver staring at her with that haunted look in his eyes. 

He shook his head faintly and ran a hand over his face. He mumbled something softly, not looking at her. When he finally spoke his voice was rough with emotion.   
“I guess I got what I asked for then.” 

He sounded hurt, she thought in alarm, but he didn’t give her a chance to explain before he continued. 

“I hoped that you’d change your mind, give me a second chance…maybe even tell me what I had to do to make things right.” 

“Yes, but Oliver, that’s…” Felicity tried to interject, but he wasn’t listening. 

“It’s ironic really,” he continued. “Now that I know – I have absolutely no idea how to give you what you ask for.” He ran his hands over his face and gave a slight shake of his head. 

He got up and turned away to stare blindly out the windows as he continued in a low, thoughtful voice; “I can’t actually prove to you that I’d handle things differently from now on, can I?” he asked. “I mean, it’s no like I’m going to find out I have another secret child somewhere,” he continued bitterly. 

Felicity felt a lump in her throat as she looked at his taut back, realizing with a sense of shock that he had misunderstood what she said. He thought she’d already given him her answer.   
Her mind was screaming at her to start talking – fast! - to make him listen to her, but she couldn’t get the words out. 

“I’m sorry,” he said in a much more mellow tone, turning back to face her. “That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m blaming you for any of this. I’m glad you told me what you need from me,” he added softly.

“Felicity, believe me, if I could go back in time and change everything about how I handled that whole mess I would. In a heartbeat! But I can’t. And it’s cost me everything – it’s cost me you.”

He stared at her for a moment, an unfathomable look in his eyes.

“It doesn’t change what I want, or how I feel…about you,” he continued.

“I love you,” he said quietly his voice taking on new warmth and meaning. 

“But all I can do is promise you - swear to you - that I would never act like that again. Ever. I do trust you. But if you don’t trust me enough to take my word for that…If you don’t know me…believe in me enough to believe that that is true…then I don’t know where to go from here,” he said, desperation and defeat making his voice rough. 

“Oliver…” Felicity whispered, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

“I guess…I guess you’ll have to decide what you believe Felicity,” he said quietly. “You need to decide if you can trust ME again, and if you can’t…well...” He sounded so hopeless she had to restrain herself from jumping up to hug him. 

“Oliver!” she repeated more insistently this time, getting up to stand in front of him. He kept his gaze averted, so she placed a hand on his arm hoping to give her words more effect through physical contact. 

“Would you just listen for a second?” she asked softly. “You didn’t let me finish before.” 

His eyes met hers briefly. She saw a glimmer of something – hope maybe? Then he looked down at her hand on his arm, but he stayed immobile. 

Felicity took that as a sign to carry on. 

“Oliver, I came here tonight to tell you that I do know what I want. I’ve known for weeks actually.”

He looked up, and this time his eyes met hers and didn’t shift away again. There was a question in them, but he kept quiet, waiting for her to finish. 

“The truth is, I have been thinking a lot about our relationship lately,” she continued softly.   
“And I think that maybe, when I ended it, I wasn’t just hurt, I was scared too – and maybe looking for guarantees that can’t ever really be made.”

“I think these past months have given me…perspective. Not just on us but on what we do, consequences, how to cope. And when you gave me the journals… well, it just made it all the more clear to me. And I want you to know that reading your journals… that didn’t change my decision.” 

“The fact that you gave them to me just made me realize that I didn’t need to read them. I already know you better than anyone, Oliver. I don't need to know all your secrets, but if you can trust me with them – with all your fear and darkness – then I’m sure you’ll trust me with anything.” 

His eyes bore into hers as she paused. She could tell he was wound so tight the slightest nudge would make him unravel. 

“What I’m saying is, Oliver,” she continued in a slightly breathless voice. Her throat suddenly felt tight. 

“I know who you are and that's enough. Oliver…I want to be with you.”

Oliver hadn’t moved a muscle throughout her speech. And now he just stood there, still like a statue, a strange look on his face. His mouth was doing this funny thing, she noticed, where it opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, but he didn’t make a sound.

‘God, I’m making such a mess of this, she thought to herself, feeling queasy with nerves. I’m not saying this right …’

She took a quick gulp of air. ‘Important to breathe,’ she reminded herself, but before she could make a sound, strong arms wound around her, lifting her off her feet as he hugged her so close she could hardly breathe. 

“Thank God”, she thought she heard him mumble. And then he kissed her. Firm lips crushed hers, and all she could think was ‘finally!’ 

 

***

Felicity was vaguely aware that she was kissing him back with just as much urgency as he seemed to feel. All the pent up frustration of months of being apart, but seeing each other every day, of long evenings spent working side by side, but never being allowed to touch, to kiss…it all seemed to explode out of her as she clung to him, her arms wrapping around his neck, fingers raking through his hair. 

And he wasn’t being gentle with her either. 

At first his arms were crushing her to him. Then one hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, cupping the back of her head to hold her firmly in place while the other roamed restlessly up and down her body, as if he was trying to touch her everywhere at once. 

It was hot and messy, lips crushing, tongues licking, hands grabbing, tangling, stroking, both of them too desperate to make up for lost time to be patient. 

Finally the need for air became too strong. Oliver tore his mouth away from hers and she buried her face in his neck, breathing heavily. He mumbled something she couldn’t quite make out as she clung to him, not sure her legs would even carry her if she let go. 

She could feel his heart beating like it was trying to escape from his chest but his hands were still moving over her body. His touch seemed more deliberate now. Slowly she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. They were so dark they looked almost black, and she felt like she could drown in them, happily. 

“Felicity…” he said, his voice sounding rough and gravelly with need. He bent his head to touch his forehead to hers, and for a long moment he just held her. 

With one hand anchored around his neck, unwilling to let any space come between them, she lifted her other hand to touch his cheek, letting her fingers trail down his neck, his chest, watching his face as she traced the hard lines of his body, like she used to.

“I love you,” she whispered. 

She watched as he closed his eyes briefly, savoring her touch. And then suddenly he was moving. With a growl of impatience he lifted her up and carried her the few steps to the futon. She was already pulling his t-shirt over his head when he set her down, and he paused only long enough to shove the rest of his clothes out of the way and lift her dress over her head. 

She was barely aware of pulling him down on top of her, or his weight pushing her into the mattress. The need to get close – as close as possible – drove her on as he covered her body with his. She was completely caught up in the sensation of his skin on hers, his warmth, the way his big powerful body somehow fit perfectly with hers. 

And then he was kissing her again. Deep, passionate, demanding kisses that made her forget to breathe. Her hands were busy smoothing over taut muscles, skimming down his back, urging him on, as he trailed kisses down her throat, further down, pausing briefly between her breast, as his hands roamed up her body. 

Felicity had very few conscious thoughts during the hours that followed. 

At first the purely physical need had been overwhelming. She’d needed to touch him, to feel his naked skin on hers, his hands on her body, his lips on hers. It was an all-consuming hunger, and a burning desire to reconnect in the most elemental way, and he seemed to feel it as acutely as she did. 

It had been even more passionate than she remembered, she thought, as she lay in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, watching the first light of dawn streak the sky through the wall of windows. 

It was as if the few months apart had made them even more aware of each other than before. Every touch felt more electric, every kiss more meaningful. 

Felicity sighed happily and stretched lightly. 

“I thought you were asleep.” Oliver’s deep voice made her turn her head to look at him. 

He looked…happy, she decided. Sleepy, but happy. 

She smiled up at him, and he pulled her in for a lazy kiss. 

“Too happy to sleep,” she mumbled against his lips. She felt him smile and then the kiss deepened. Talking could wait, she decided as her arms circled his neck pulling him closer again. 

 

***

The next time Felicity awoke it was full daylight. Oliver was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing the sweatpants from last night, waving a mug of something hot and steaming under her nose. 

She blinked owlishly up at him. Then the aroma of freshly brewed coffee hit her. 

“Ooh, gimme,” she said pushing up on her elbow, and reaching for the mug. 

Oliver laughed and pulled the mug out of her reach. 

“Not until you’re vertical. Sit up and it’s yours.” He grinned and took a sip of the cup, taunting her. 

“Mean…!” she grumbled, but she pushed into a sitting position and shoved her hair out of her face. 

He handed her the mug and watched as she inhaled deeply before taking her first sip. She closed her eyes and almost groaned with pleasure. 

“So good,” she mumbled, cradling the mug in both hands. 

“Glad that my coffee is getting good reviews,” he chuckled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

She glanced at him speculatively. 

“So tell me,” she said with an impish smile. “If I hadn’t come here last night, what was your plan? Were you just going to wait till I made a move?”

“Not a chance - I’m not quite that pathetic, you know,” he replied, as he slipped back under the covers and pulled her back against his chest.   
“I had a plan…sort of.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, because frankly I don’t think I could have handled one more training session,” she said wryly, setting the coffee mug down on the table before settling back against him. 

“Yeah about that…” he said, an uncomfortable note to his voice. “I may have used the whole training thing as an excuse…” He started played with a lock of her hair, glancing at her as if to gauge how angry she was going to be. 

She turned in his arms to get a better look at his face. 

“An excuse to do what exactly,” she asked, smiling at the semi-joking apprehension on his face. 

“Well, I thought that maybe it would loosen things up between us, you know? And of course there was the added benefit of full body contact,” he flashed her a mischievous smile. “So I might have made the Martial Arts Center out to be a little more useless than they really are.”

He smiled in a way that made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. 

“But to be honest,” he continued, “over the months we spent working together just the two of us, there were times when I seriously considered moving to Siberia. I mean…it was torture, Felicity!”   
He gave her an agonized look. 

“All those nights, just the two of us, alone in the arrow cave…and I couldn’t touch you! It was driving me crazy – all I could think about some nights was how I wanted to just grab you and kiss you.”

“You and me both,” she mumbled under her breath, and then she pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder. 

“Well, I have to admit your strategy was probably working,” she said. “I mean, movie nights, training sessions…all those times I walked in on you working out shirtless…” she trailed off focusing with renewed appreciation on his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

He nuzzled her ear and started kissing his way down the side of her neck. 

Felicity closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him better access.

“So what now?” he mumbled, nibbling at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. 

“Hmmm?...” she mumbled, too caught up in what his lips were doing to pay attention. 

“I mean, I’m not really sure what the protocol is for getting back together after a broken off engagement,” he said, lifting his head and sliding her a little to the side so he could look at her.  
“Do we date, or can we skip ahead a few steps?”

“I think we sort of already did,” Felicity chuckled, looking at the bed meaningfully.

“Right,” he said with a crooked smile. “So can we maybe skip ahead a few more steps?” 

He sounded so cute Felicity just couldn’t help laughing. 

“Is that your way of saying you want to move back in?” she asked, humor flashing in her eyes.

“Do you want me to?” he asked hopefully. 

“I think the real question is how soon can you move in?” she said coyly.

“How soon do you want me?” he asked. This time she was sure she saw him wink suggestively. 

“How about now?” 

“Done!” he bent down to kiss her lazily.

“Do you need help packing?” she said a little breathlessly, as they came up for air.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, trailing kisses down her neck. 

“Oh?” 

He lifted his head to look down at her. 

“Felicity…look around you,” he said seriously. “What do you see?”

She glanced around the bare space of his loft and shrugged. 

“Well…nothing really.”

“Exactly!” he said. When she still didn’t seem to get his point he glanced meaningfully at the piles of boxes stacked against the wall behind the door. 

Felicity looked, and then she looked again as the meaning slowly sank in.

“Are those…?”

“Yeah. I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to unpack. Every time I tried it all became so real, and I just couldn’t deal with it. So I simply left it all there. Talk about denial, huh?” he mumbled, a slightly sheepish look on his face. 

“Well,” she said patting his chest. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But I have to say I think your bad-boy reputation just self-destructed.”

She laughed happily at his fake growl.

“Oh yeah?” he said, with a predatory look in his eyes. “Well, I think I might still be able to channel my inner bad boy when needed.” He gave her a slow grin, and before she could protest, he’d flipped on to her back and pinned her down.

And then she didn’t want to protest at all…

Epilogue

 

It was getting dark again, but neither of them had made a move to get out of bed all day - except to call for pizza at one point. 

“I wonder if my mom still has the wedding book she was making for us,” Felicity said, lazily tracing circles on his chest. 

“She doesn’t,” Oliver said. There was an odd note to his voice.

Felicity propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him.

“How do you know?” she asked with a frown.

He gave her a shifty look and shrugged slightly.

“Oliver?” she pressed.

“Because I have it,” he mumbled reluctantly.

Felicity stared at him for a second. 

“What?” she said, fighting back a smile.

“Well, it sort of got left behind,” he explained. “When we were dividing things up. So I decided to hang on to it.” He gave her a defiant look. 

Felicity bit her lip, trying very hard not to laugh.

“Oh come on, Felicity, it’s not like it’s my bed-time reading or anything,” he protested. “I just couldn’t let it get…thrown away,” he added a little petulantly.

“That’s either very, very sad or very, very sweet,” Felicity giggled, no longer able to hold it in. 

“Yeah, well, you just let me know when you decide,” Oliver grumbled.

“I’m sure my mom will be pleased,” she said sweetly. 

“Felicity…” he growled. And then he suddenly stopped, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“Wait…why did you ask about the book?” he asked. 

“Hmm?...” she said, feigning indifference. “Oh, no reason…just curious.”

“Felicity?” he said, pronouncing every syllable the way he did when she was I trouble. 

“No reason, Oliver,” she repeated not meeting his eyes. “Except…you know, maybe just thinking ahead a few more steps?”

But his smile told her he’d already reached that conclusion.


End file.
